Pity Those Who Live Without Love
by Rise-Eternal-Night
Summary: Why couldn't Draco kill Dumbledore? What was there between Draco and Hermione and the Golden Trio? This story will follow the Half-Blood Prince but focus on Draco's story. Hr/D  More info inside. Read, review, enjoy!
1. Hogwarts Express

_A/N: Hi everyone. I am rather new at writing fanfictions but I am excited to write this one. Currently in a post-Harry Potter depressed mood, I have taken up writing about the pairing I love (even though I have no clue why). My fanfic will contain spoilers, for I hope to closely follow J. K. Rowling's sixth book, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. However, I will be writing in Draco's perspective and will be adding scenes where I find there are gaps. Of course, I will be adding a bit of romance and deviating from the book from time to time. Please enjoy._

_Disclaimer: Although I do not own Harry Potter, there are places with an asterisk (*) to mark pieces of dialogue I have taken from J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I own nothing of her work but chose to use these snippets of dialogue to tie my story with the book._

**Pity Those Who Live Without Love**

**Chapter 1: Hogwart's Express**

On one particular September day, King's Cross was teeming with people. Not that that was unusual. Thousands of people swarmed the station daily to travel wherever they were heading. But on this day, the same day as every year, strange people were entering the station, as muggles who were employed at the station noticed.

Rather than suitcases and briefcases, these people rolled trolleys with large trunks, which all may have well came from decades before their time, and animals. Owls, ferrets, mice, all stowed away in cages, adding to the clanking and pit pattering of the trolley. And their dress! Many of the adults wore long, draping cloaks, something of which was never in style. Some even donned on pointed hats. Then there were those who wore the strangest arrangements of socks, shoes, shirts, and pants. A man walked by with three socks on one foot yet none on another his wife wore three heavy layers of clothing despite the fairly pleasant weather. Regardless, walking in tight groups, these people were all headed for the same place. The whereabouts of 'that lot,' as referred to by the station's staff, always remained a mystery.

* * *

><p>Many awaited that September day. For many eager children, it was their first time crossing the strangely not solid column to platform 9 ¾. Before them, the brilliant train roared with life with steam spouting out airy blows and children and teens shouted from the train cars. On the platform, families were exchanging hugs and kisses. Proud mothers of the new first years had tears streaming down the faces. Meanwhile, returning students looked at the Hogwarts Express with wide grins, no grin larger than those of Fred and George Weasley.<p>

Today had been the day nearly everyone was looking for, especially Harry Potter. For him, now  
>"The Chosen One," he was returning to his true home, the place where he shared genuine smiles, jokes, and stories and where he had made his first friends with two in particular, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Together, they made the Golden Trio, the trio that fought You-Know-Who not once but on multiple occasions. Not even many trained aurors could claim such a feat and live to tell the tale. Having said their final goodbyes, the three boarded the train. All three passed with splendid marks on their O.. Ron and Hermione were prefects. Now Harry earned the same respect but as captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team. It was already the start of a great year.<p>

However, on that day there wasn't just one "Chosen One," but two. However, the second was nervous and bitter about the return to Hogwarts and was chosen for all the wrong reasons. Dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit, a wizard with perfect blonde hair took up his briefcase and looked back. Behind him, two stiff people looked back. The man gave a curt nod and his mother mouthed, "I will miss you." But Draco did not return his mother's address. No, he was simply sick of her babying him all the time. Yes, he was the chosen one and chosen for a most honorable task.

Finally, with its last puff of smoke, Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station with many young witches and wizards stuck out their heads and hands to wave goodbye. Meanwhile, the older ones, accustomed to this already, took the opportunity to find the better train compartments, aka the ones away from the noisy first years. The Golden Trio had split up since Ron and Hermione were the Gryffindor prefects. Draco found himself heading the same direction, for he had been made prefect as well to his astonishment.

* * *

><p>As Draco walked to the designated compartment, some girls watched him. He walked by with such composure and coolness that girls couldn't help but let out soft, girly giggles. However, Draco was merely indifferent. He reminded himself to have a word with those bothersome first and second years.<p>

"Draco!" a shrill almost shriek-like voice called his name. Before Draco could even debate whether or not to say hi, he felt a body press against him. "Hi, Draco. Did you have a nice summer?"

'Pansy Parkinson,' he thought, 'another year with her.' He sighed. "I've had an interesting summer, to say the very least." Pansy looked up at him eagerly, waiting for the next sentence which never came.

"So Drakie, I've been made prefect, and as rumors say, so have you." With a smooth motion with his hand, Draco slightly opened his suit to reveal a shiny, green badge. Pansy squealed with delight. "Girls are so easy to please," he muttered under his breath. But Pansy was too excited to notice, and even if she did, she took it for a soft sigh. "Let's go together." Weaving her arm into his, she pulled him closer and the two walked off.

The walk was short, for the prefect compartment was located in the center of the train. When they slid the door open, they were met with scowl, coming from no one other than Ron.

"What's wrong with your face, Weasley?" Draco sneered. "Mother didn't have enough food to make you lunch?" Ron turned a bright red with his mouth slightly parted, but he was too stunned to speak.

"Sod off, Malfoy," came the defiant voice, which belonged to no one other than Hermione.

"I didn't even notice you there, Granger. And who let you in? In case you haven't noticed, you are the odd one out. This isn't the place for filthy mudbloods like you." Draco nearly spat out the last word. For a split second, he felt very pleased with himself, and next to him, Pansy mouthed "mudblood" and "blood traitor."

"Well I'm_ so_ sorry," Hermione replied sarcastically while closing her book. "I thought this compartment was for model students, not pompous gits." No one in the compartment made a sound.

"Why you lousy mudblood," he said with his voice raised. "Why don't you return the magic you've stolen and your wand to Ollivanders."

"And you are stupid enough to believe that…" But Hermione never finished her comment.

"This compartment is for exemplary students. Such bickering will not be tolerated," a very stern voice announced. The Head Boy and Girl were standing now at the entrance. The boy continued, "We congratulate you all for accepting this responsibility as prefects. Now…"

Under his breath, Ron whispered, "exemplary students." Hermione laughed and looked over at one Slytherin in particular. When their eyes met, she heard him scowl. Hermione smirked, which only angered Draco further.

"…your first duty as prefects is to monitor the train cars. Slytherin will take the first shift, then Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and finally Ravenclaw. When you are done patrolling, you may come back here or sit in another compartment. You can all go now."

Draco already dreaded this "privilege" as prefect. "Come on Drakie." Draco didn't understand why Pansy was so excited. This was servants work, and he definitely was in no mood to do any sort of work.

As Pansy, eager to have relative alone time with Draco, dragged his hand, Draco noticed that they were passing by the same compartment with those annoying girls. With a sudden idea, he stopped and pulled Pansy toward him. Before he gave her a rough kiss, he made sure the girls were watching. When he saw their disappointed faces, he stopped. "Let's go to our compartment, Pansy." Too giddy to take in what Draco said, she nodded.

Draco had better things to do rather than watch happy students. He walked through several cars and as he did so pushed whomever out of his way until he found the compartment with his lot. As he slid the door open, he saw Crabbe with his comics and Goyle lounging on the seat.

"Oi."

The two boys looked up. "Where's Zabini?" Out of his "friends," Malfoy only really enjoyed talking to Zabini, who was the only one capable of holding out an intelligent or even decent conversation.

"He was invited somewhere. I dunno," mumbled Goyle. "Professor Slugburn or something."

'You never know anything,' thought Malfoy as he took a seat. He saw Pansy give a pout so he swapped sides and lay on her lap, thinking that would shut her up for some time. Pansy was delighted.

"So how was your summer?" Goyle asked.

Draco was in a foul mood and muttered something. There were so many things to be angered about, but for some reason, Draco could only see Granger's smug face. He hated himself for giving her that rare opportunity. No, he was definitely not up for talking. Goyle, not knowing how to take a hint, continued to blather away about his summer. Although Draco never hated his group, he hated them all now. Why, he hated everything right now. Frustrated, he closed his eyes and was soon asleep.

* * *

><p>Draco finally woke up to a familiar yet now angered voice of Zabini, who had just entered the compartment with a face of contempt that even Draco approved of. "What's wrong with this thing?"*<p>

Suddenly, Draco saw as Zabini was pushed by the door (which made no sense in his mind), causing Zabini to topple into Goyle's lap. While the two were squabbling like foolish children, a flash of white flitted across Draco's eyes. Draco pretended to watch his two friends as he tried to follow the intruder. 'Potter, no doubt.' He let out a scowl and decided to deal with Potter later.

With Draco up, Pansy resumed stroking his hair. Without any pleasantries, Draco asked Zabini about Slughorn's get together. As Zabini recounted what sounded like a dull collection of prats and wannabes, he couldn't help but feel irked. Why wasn't he invited? Even Longbottom, the useless blunder, was invited. And of course, precious Potter was invited. He scowled, "But that Weasley girl! What's so special about her?"* For the second time of the day, he nearly spat. The combination of mudblood and blood traitor nauseated him. Then with Pansy giving that Weasley girl the compliment of good-looking, Draco could have thrown up and nearly did so.

"I wouldn't bank on an invitation. I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters," said Zabini. Angered, Malfoy forced out a singularly humorless laugh.* 'To hell with that man then,' thought Draco.

And without realizing it, Draco had told his lot that he was not attending Hogwarts next year. Pansy immediately stopped playing with Draco's hair and asked for an explanation. She couldn't lose him just as Draco was about to become her boyfriend. After a long pause and sigh, Draco continued.

"Well, you never know. I might have –er – moved on to bigger and better things."* Again Draco paused, but this time it wasn't because he was frustrated with his friends but rather heard a sound coming from the luggage rack above.

Now his friends were curious. Yes, they doubted him. All except Pansy, of course, who had on a face of adoration. However, although he didn't show it, Draco doubted himself, too. 'Zabini is right. Only sixteen.' His face wrinkled. 'But I have to do it, don't I? I have to. Or else…' He didn't allow himself to finish his thought. His right hand was already beginning to tremble. To his greater relief and nervousness, Hogwarts came into view. "We'd better get our robes on," he said.*

The compartment now felt small with the five of them in there. Crabbe and Goyle now took up much more space now. Pansy was taking her sweet time, fixing her hair and makeup while looking at Draco from her mirror. Draco, however, only had one thing in mind now. He did not forget about the intruder. As Goyle shoved people out of the way as he exited, Draco decided to stay behind. He wanted to thank his unwanted guest personally.

With the others gone, he aimed his wand and said, "Petrificus Totalus." As expected, there was a loud thud as a motionless body hit the compartment floor. The Invisibility Cloak had slipped off with the fall, exposing Potter's body to Draco, who for the third time spat at him. 'Worthless Potter spying on me. And to think,' Draco let out a haughty laugh, 'to think that he thought he could get away.'

"You didn't' hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here…"*

Using all of the pent up rage, frustration, and anxiousness from the day alone, he stomped as hard as he could on Potter's face. Blood splattered everywhere. Feeling rather accomplished, Draco took up the Invisibility Cloak and threw it over Potter." Maybe I won't ever have to see with you again," muttered Malfoy. But then he scoffed and sarcastically said, "But you are the _Chosen_ One. _Everyone_ loves you." With that, Draco took his briefcase and exited the compartment with a smug look on his face.

* * *

><p><em>Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I know it isn't drastically different from the novel. I'll add my own tibits soon. Please continue to read my upcoming chapters and review. Comments and suggestions are always welcomed (:<em>

_vivoridoamo - live laugh love_


	2. Friendship

_A/N: Hey everyone. Thanks again for reading. Enjoy and please review! (I can't wait to write the next chapter-Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts coming up.)_

_Disclaimer: Although I do not own Harry Potter, there are places with an asterisk (*) to mark pieces of dialogue I have taken from J. K. Rowling's __Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince__. I own nothing of her work but chose to use these snippets of dialogue to tie my story with the book. _

**Chapter 2: Friendship**

Draco had walked away with a sense of satisfaction. As he shoved students out of his way to catch up with his lot, he even found himself smiling for the first time that day.

"Draco. Over here!"

Draco looked ahead to see Pansy waving her hand. He quickly dashed to them before the carriage could pull away. He didn't want to be stuck with random losers.

"What took you so long?" huffed Goyle. Pansy, who found her way next to Draco. folded her arms and nodded.

"Some business," he replied coolly. Draco was going to tell his friends eventually, but it was much more amusing to him to watch his friends coax the story out of him.

"What business?" Crabbe asked.

"I won't say."

"Please," Pansy pleaded with her sweetest voice. Draco mentally gagged a little.

"Oh common, Malfoy. Just tell us already. You are covered in blood. I'm sure you are dying to tell us what you did to some poor bloke," Zabini said rather bluntly.

Pansy emitted a high squeak. "Drakie, are you okay? Let me wipe the blood off. Are you hurt? I'll murder the prat who did this to you."

'Girls,' thought Draco.

"He's fine, Parkinson. That's not his blood. There isn't a scratch on that _perfect_ body of his," Zabini said, emphasizing or rather taunting Draco with his last sentence. "Now go on with the story."

"I never said I would tell you," Draco said with a pretentious tone, "But fine, since you guys are so curious." Pansy looked delighted. "When Zabini came to the compartment, I noticed a little, nosy intruder enter our room, and that intruder was no one other than _precious Potter_." He sneered as he said Harry's name, gaining some laughs from his friends. "Anyway, it just so happened that Potter believed that he could get away after spying on us. Of course, I couldn't let that happen, so I waited until everyone got off the train. Luckily for me, Potter did not dare move, so I put him in a full body bind." Draco proceeded to mimic Harry falling from the luggage rack. The carriage roared with laughter for Draco's imitation was perfect – wide eyed, hands clutched around his body. Of course this was all exaggeration, but Draco couldn't help himself.

"And?"

"Well, you know how Potter has that cloak? Well before covering him so no one could find him, I gave him…" he pointed to his nose.

"A nose?" asked a confused Goyle.

"No you idiot. A broken nose. Now Potty is lying on the floor with his nose pointed in a different direction." Draco's story did not come out as elegantly or as dramatically as he would have liked it to have, but that didn't matter. They were howling with laughter as Crabbe and Goyle were mocking the nonexistent Potter. Draco had to admit that although Crabbe and Goyle were fools, their imitations of the nose stamping were flawless. Draco himself laughed along. True camaraderie was hard to find in the Slytherin house, but Draco was glad he had this lot to call friends. At least they had similar ideas of fun.

The ride went by rather quickly. Any hesitations Draco had about attending Hogwarts this year dissipated. When the carriage stopped in front of the castle gates, even Draco felt nice and helped Pansy out almost like a true gentleman. Crabbe and Goyle snickered, but Draco was fine with that. With her arm looped in his, the two lead their group as they walked to the entrance. While walking by, Zabini nudged Draco in the ribcage. Before he could yell at Zabini, Zabini pointed at another happy pair making their way to the castle.

"Let's have some fun," Draco announced. The guys smirked while Pansy looked on eagerly.

"Mudblood. Weasel."

Hermione quickly turned around and glared at Draco. "What do you want, ferret?"

"Ouch that hurt," he said sarcastically as he put his hand over his heart. After Pansy had stopped laughing so loudly, he continued, "Well well Granger. I think it is what _you_ two want. I mean it doesn't matter to me," he ended nonchalantly.

"What is it, Malfoy?" Ron scowled. He was ruining a perfectly good first day.

"Missing someone, aren't you? Or are you too busy with each other to notice." Draco gagged. "Mudblood and blood traitor. What a perfectly horrible match."

Ron, who was always quick to be angered, grew even redder and clenched his fists, for he still hadn't quite calm down from the earlier incident. Hermione, however, remained calm. "No, we did not forget about Harry. He's with Neville and Ginny. And I'm _sorry_. We were busy with each other, until you showed up that is. It's called friendship. I know someone like you can't possibly understand this hard concept."

Everyone waited for Draco to respond; however, he was still trying to string insults together in his head. When nothing came out, Crabbe said, "We're his friends."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Inwardly, Draco cursed himself for taking so long to come up with a response. "Oh yeah, Granger. I'd rather not understand friendship if that means hanging around with people like blood traitor weasels or Looney Lovegood or skill less wonder Longbottom. And at least I can say I have somewhere to go other than the library."

"You arrogant git."

"Aw. Did I hit a nerve?"

"Sod off, Malfoy."

"Fine. We don't want to be around you filth anyway. But I'm serious about Potter." Draco smirked. "I thought the Golden Trio would know when one was hurt." His group snickered.

"Come on, Hermione. We don't need to listen to his rubbish," said Ron as calmly as Hermione did before she was irritated. He put his arm around Hermione's waist and led her away.

As his friends hooted and wolf whistled, there was something that didn't feel right. 'Friendship,' he thought. 'Sure I have friends. Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy. And no girl except for the mudblood could possibly refuse me.' But Draco continued looking at the pair as they walked off, as Weasley said something to Granger that made her smile. Draco shook his head. Almost snatching her, Draco violently grabbed Pansy around the waist. He regretted it right away. Pansy was over delighted and began to ramble with many "Drakie"s and "sweetie"s blended in. Draco groaned. He wondered what that weasel told Granger.

* * *

><p>New students filed into the dining hall. Some were smiling confidently. However, most of the students were either distracted by the floating candles and all too realistic sky-ceiling or nervous. After the Sorting Hat had sung its song (of which Draco only caught the word "unity" because it came up so many blood times) the hall had grown deathly silent. The words "unity" and "friendship" floated in Draco's head. 'Hah. Like hell I'll every become friends with the likes of mudbloods.' What bothered Draco more, however, was the fact that one particular mudblood continued to weave in and out with his thoughts.<p>

Wondrous applause broke out in the room as the Sorting Hat yelled the first student's house, Gryffindor. Immediately, Draco stood up and booed. He sneered in Hermione's direction, not thinking he would be seen. But it must have been instinctive for her to assume the first to boo would be him, so his eyes were met with a fierce stare, scary he almost had to admit. Draco did not want to break the stare, so he was glad when his fellow Slytherins followed suit and booed the poor child. Hermione quickly turned around defeated. Draco smiled. He gained as much satisfaction from her defeat as when he kicked Potter's face.

"Enough!" exclaimed McGonagall. She was always a stickler for fairness and the rules.

The sorting resumed, but Draco only booed or cheered on occasion. He was still relishing the look on Hermione's face as she looked away. 'That's right, Granger. Serves you right for…' He mentally slapped himself. Pansy should have been making him feel happy. Or Zabini. Quickly, he made small talk with Zabini, for he had grown tired of taunting the other houses.

At long last, the sorting was over. After Dumbledore's few words, a magnificent feast appeared before the students' eyes. Unlike Crabbe and Goyle eyed the food greedily and started grabbing everything they possibly could, Draco poured himself pumpkin juice and a turkey leg. He wasn't particularly hungry.

"Duf you wanch schum?" Crabbe stuck out the pot pie at Draco, who waved his hand.

Bored out of his mind, he watched his friends stuff their faces with food. The hall was full of gaiety and joy. It was tiring. Then, for some reason, he turned to look at Potter's lot. Although there was plenty of laughter at the Gryffindor table, Potter's lot looked rather subdued. Weasel wasn't eating as voraciously as he normally would have, and Granger was picking at her food.

Suddenly the diving hall grew quiet. The grand doors which had been shut now cracked open as a scrawny figure entered after being not so politely shoved in by Professor Snape, whom Harry loathed. Draco watched as Hermione dropped her fork and hit Ron on the shoulder. He thought he saw her mouth something along the lines of, "Can you stop eating for once?"

When they looked at the Slytherin table, they saw how Draco and his fellow friends were imitating both Harry's fall and broken nose.

"Bloody hell, Harry. What happened to you?" Ron exclaimed.

However, Harry was wary of the others sitting around them at the Gryffindor table, so he kept his response short.

"It's okay, mate," said Ron, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. At least you made it for the feast. "Here, eat some treacle." Hermione gave up her seat next to Ron and moved across to sit next to Ginny. They smiled at each other with understanding looks that read "Boys."

After more feasting, the deserts disappeared and the tables seemingly cleaned themselves. The wonders of magic. Then suddenly, all of the talking and laughter died down as Dumbledore rose from his seat. "The very best of evenings to you! Nothing to worry about. Now…"*

Draco, uninterested in an old man's rambles, looked down at the table. With the mention of Professor Snape as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he looked up and applauded but resumed glancing downward almost immediately. His mind began to drift. He didn't care about uniting with fellow students. He did not honestly care about any of his lessons this year. He had better plans, one of which he had to fulfill this year. If a stranger was looking his way, that person could have said that Draco looked tense. He gulped and looked forward with a blank face, not looking at anything or anyone in particular.

By chance, a pair of eyes caught his. Draco, who was very quiet after the sorting, blinked several times. Needing to do something, he pointed to his nose and gave his most insincere smile. Hermione simply looked away. She realized that indifference was sometimes as rewarding as yelling back. A quick look up proved her theory correct as Draco seemed slightly disappointed due to the lack of response. But when she looked up for the second time, she could have sworn that he his smirk had vanished and was replaced by nervous.

"Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!" ended Dumbledore.*

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories.* With a commanding voice, Draco barked out, "Slytherins, follow me."

The Slytherin house waited for the other houses to leave. Not out of gallantry, though. Draco could not miss out on bother the Golden Trio all at once. As the Gryffindors filed out with Hermione leading the way, the Slytherins jeered. Unheeded by all except the first years, who seemed utterly petrified even without spells being casted on them, they left. However, it seemed that Weasley and Potter were lagging behind. It was a tad anticlimactic for Draco, but it was worth a shot.

With quick footsteps, he led his house downstairs to the dungeons. The warm glow from the Entrance Hall transformed into cooler shades of blue with candles emitting a white-ish glow against the walls. Finally at the portrait hole, Draco said, "merum sanguis." The portrait swung open.

Standing in the common room, he listened as students clambered through. In no mood to give further directions, he shouted, "Boys, this way. Girls' dormitory to your right." Draco then proceeded to quickly ahead find his room.

The Slytherin dormitory was quite different from that of the other houses. Because it was located far below the castle, the dormitory had no winding staircases or large windows. The interior was more or less minimalist with green furnishings against the gray-ish white walls. The common room was centrally fixed with hallways branching out in all directions. Down the corridors were large, wooden doors with the Slytherin crest engraved on each. The doors were already bewitched to engrave the names of the current owners of the room.

Draco walked down the leftmost hall. Finding a more secluded section, he opened one of the doors. He was sure that his friends would find him eventually, so he claimed one bedroom. He was first in so he took the bed furthest from the door. Dumping his belongings beside his bed, he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the blank wall. With a sigh, he laid down on the green comforter with his arms folded behind his head. He pretended to be asleep when Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini entered, but for the rest of night, he remained awake with his eyes open in nervous anticipation of the year to come.


	3. Friendly Reminders

**Chapter 3- Friendly Reminders**

Draco woke up relatively comfortably the next morning. He was the first to wake, he judged, for he heard snores resonate throughout the room. 'Good,' he muttered. This was the perfect opportunity for him to slip away without being noticed.

Quietly he opened his trunk but just as silently closed it. He had forgotten that he hadn't undressed that night. Taking the sleek wand from his dresser, Draco pointed at his shirt and whispered, "Vesti." His shirt pressed itself, and suddenly the wrinkles in his clothing disappeared. Then, he lazily put his green and silver tie around his neck and grabbed his school robe. His hair rivaled even Harry's messy hair. But altogether, Draco did not look shabby. On the contrary, most of the witches in the school would simply describe him as stylish.

After tucking his wand into one of the folds of his cloak and grabbing his bag, Draco briskly walked to the common room. Though it was hard for Slytherin students to determine the time of day since they were locked in the dungeons, it was unmistakably morning. Not a single student was in common room, unlike the afternoons when many students would cut class and lounge around or nights when Slytherin students were accustomed to plotting and challenging one another.

Looking around the empty room, Draco took a seat on one of the leather couches and pulled out some parchment and a quill. Every so often, he'd scout for any lurking Slytherins. Then with elegant handwriting, he quickly addressed the letter to Borgin. He needed to send a _friendly_ reminder.

Only a few minutes had passed when Draco finished his reminder. He had finished with not more than a few sentences written down.

_Borgin,_

_I hope you remembered our conversation the other day. I expect updates regularly. Do not disappoint me or him._

_-Malfoy_

_P.S. Fenir, as promised, will see to it that your letters come in a timely manner._

His letter was contrite. Draco then put away his materials and rose. Just as he made his way to the portrait hole, he saw a new notice. He would have to pay Professor Snape a visit after he went to the owlry. Again, he looked behind his back to make sure that no one was watching him. Glad that there were no interferences and that he did not have to make up a ludicrous excuse, Draco left.

The air in the dungeon was very crisp. It wasn't in the very least refreshing, but Draco closed his eyes inhaled deeply.

"Malfoy," a voice stated.

When Draco opened his eyes, he saw his former potions teacher just exiting his old classroom. "Professor."

"Well, what are you doing up so early? It is barely 7. I thought you would have slept in since your first class starts at noon."

"I was planning on meeting you actually, sir," Draco responded coolly.

"Really now?" Snape's right eyebrow rose. His fierce brown eyes stared into Malfoy's as if he was trying to discern whether what he heard was the absolute truth. Unable to see past his façade, he curtly added, "Very well. Would you like to discuss your future plans."

With a very straight face, Draco said, "Yes, sir."

"Come with me." Snape's black robe billowed as he walked down the corridor to his office. Draco followed.

Snape's office was not lavishly decorated. Odd objects were placed evenly around the room. Every here and there was a picture or news clipping. Some potions books were gathering dust in one corner and on his desk were freshly dug out defense against the dark art books.

"Sit," he commanded. When Draco took a seat, he continued, "You know why you are here." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Yes, Professor."

"Now have you thought about what you would like to do in the future?"

"I want to be like you, Professor."

A bit taken aback by Draco's response, Snape's naturally furrowed face softened. "Well Draco, you always had an affinity for potions. Though I never thought you would want to work with students."

Draco scowled. Was the old man mocking him? "You have me mistaken, Professor. Though I think you know what I mean," he challenged.

Snape looked as if thousands of thoughts were streaming through his head. 'That naïve child. He does not know the danger. He does not know he is choosing the path toward death.' Memories, which have haunted him every night and day, flashed through his eyes. He has lost so much. He lost his chance. He lost her…He was alone. 'He doesn't know.'

Draco kept up his stare. It was taking a while for him to respond. Draco saw as Snape parted his lips but closed them just as he was about to speak. "Professor?"

Snape did not seem to hear and left out a deep sigh.

"Professor?"

Snape closed his eyes and looked up. It was no longer dark. His eyes refocused on the room, which was adequately lit. Before him, he saw Draco.

"Yes, I understand." He paused. "I also understand that you have a secret task this year."

Draco's eyes widened. No one was supposed to know besides his mother and _him_. "And it will remain that way," he snapped.

"Malfoy," another pause. With a hushed voice, he resumed his speech, "Draco. The Dark Lord has entrusted me with many tasks, all of which I have performed to his…liking. Because of my loyalty, he has trusted me with many of his plans and secrets. Naturally, he told me about yours." He intently looked at Draco again, and again the stone gray eyes expressed no other emotion. In almost a whisper, he said, "Your mother has also told me."

Draco's face changed immediately. He glared at Snape. 'How dare she betray my task. How dare she betray _him_.' His glare and devilish face then looked repulsed. He almost forgot that there was someone observing his every movement. For a brief moment, Draco's darkest moments flashed before his eyes. 'No.' Then his mind went blank. He looked back up. Finally, he spoke, "And?"

Snape was only able to briefly enter his mind and that was only when he was most vulnerable. "Your mother," he started slowly, "has made me promise to protect you."

Rage built up within his chest. "This task was for me alone." Draco clenched his fists. 'I don't want him stealing away my glory. I don't need help.'

Again, Snape sighed. Never before did he look like a reminiscent old man in Draco's eyes. "Alright. But if you ever need, help…" Draco tensed. "Now where were we? Ah. Well, even if you do want to pursue that path, it would not be advisable that others know. How many O.W.L.s did you get?"

"Seven—defense against the dark arts, potions, transfigurations, charms, herbology, and astronomy."

"So you have a decent mind."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You have the marks and talent to become an auror."

Draco scoffed at the very idea. "Do you underestimate my capabilities, Professor? Do you think I will fail?" He shuddered at the last word. "I will become a— "

"Enough, Malfoy. Don't speak so rashly." Or childishly, he thought. "But you will say to others you are pursuing a career as an auror or a professor, whichever you like. You are dismissed."

Snape watched as the boy rushed out of his office. So the boy had learned occlumency from his Bellatrix. She had taught him well.

Draco stomped away from the office. He was by the Slytherin portrait when he began to pace back and forth. His anger subsided and developed into genuine fear. He pace quickened. He went in circles just as his thoughts were spinning in his head. 'Why does the he trust Snape? Why did my mother plead for his help? Why…was I destined to fail?' The word resounded in his head. He was a failure. He was sent to die. He had no purpose. Draco slammed both of his hands against the cold, damp walls. He hung his head low and was breathing heavily.

He closed his eyes. 'But I am ready,' he told himself. 'I alone was chosen.' His breathing became regular once more, but his heart was racing. 'I cannot die.'

"Draco?" A quiet voice called his name.

Draco jerked up and straightened himself. If today was "pop out of nowhere and scare the bloody hell out of Draco" day, he wasn't surprised. Too bad he didn't get the notice.

"Are you okay?" Pansy asked with a genuine voice.

Draco stared up for her. That was probably the first time he has ever heard Pansy say anything reasonable with a pleasant voice. "I…yeah." Draco walked closer to her.

For a moment, their eyes met. Pansy looked directly into his, but she couldn't see—couldn't see how he desperately wanted someone to hold him, couldn't see how truly terrified he was…couldn't see him.

"Oh good! You looked strange," she said with her usual, peppy (and annoying, Draco thought) voice.

"Let's go get breakfast," he said. He then put his arm her waist. Pansy smiled, but it wasn't the right smile. Or at least it wasn't the same smile that Granger gave Weasley.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hi again. Sorry, I lied. As I was writing, the discussion between Snape and Malfoy came out longer than intended. I absolutely promise the next chapter will be about potions and defense against the dark arts. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review—comments, suggestions, complaints. All are welcomed. _


	4. Start of the Year

_A/N Hi everyone! Sorry for this delayed post. I've been too distracted by the likes of Pottermore. I hope you guys have been able to solve the clues. Anywho, enjoy the next chapter. Reviews, comments, etc are always welcomed._

_Disclaimer Most unfortunately, I do not own anything of the Harry Potter series. Anything that is followed by an asterisk (*) was quoted from the book._

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Start of the Year<strong>

Once more, the Defense Against the Dark Arts room was refurnished just as it was every other year. This time, the room could be said to have perfectly reflected the room's current user. The curtains had been drawn down so that the room was only lit by the faint candlelight. Lining the walls were horrible pictures of mankind being tortured. However, these new adornments didn't bother Draco much. He has witnessed death. Pictures could not compare to life. But what did disturb him was the number of students there were in class and the proportionately low number of Slytherin students in the room.

As he looked around the room, he muttered, "Longbottom. Macmillan. Finnigan. Thomas." Nearly everyone in the room was once a DA member, people of whom Draco and the Inquisitorial Squad had managed to capture last year.

In the sea of red and blue, Draco found a patch of green in the back corner. To his surprise, Goyle had managed to pass his O.W.L. Some girl he didn't know was sitting beside him, so Draco stood beside his chosen seat. "Excuse me." There was no politeness in his speech.

"Oh," the girl piped up, "I'm sorry." Draco watched as her cheeks grew pink. "I'll move over there." As quickly as possible, she grabbed her belongings and moved to a seat where she could continue to stare at that table.

"Who is she?" Draco demanded.

"Marilyn Alenn," Goyle answered.

"Never heard of her."

"Neither have I. She fancies you, mate."

"Well that's no surprise." Draco casually looked back. Marilyn, who was still staring at him, buried her face in her upside down book when his eyes met her. Draco continued to look at the brunette. She had bright blue eyes and lovely wavy hair that brushed nicely against her cheeks.

"She's certainly pretty. Are you going to go for her?"

Draco considered the possibility. Pansy's wrath versus a hot girl. Personally, he liked girls with wit slightly over their attractiveness. "I'll see." He got up and sat in the seat besides Marilyn's. "I meant Goyle to move. It wasn't polite of him." He refrained himself from apologizing, which wasn't a hard task to begin with.

Marilyn smiled sheepishly. Her look easily rivaled Luna's whenever she drifted off to her own world. "It's okay." It was as if she took Draco's rather insincere words as a whole-heartedly spoken apology. "So…" there was an awkward silence.

For the first time, Draco wanted to thank the Golden Trio. Cutting through the silence was the shuffling of the three into the classroom.

Without even the slightest bit of welcome, Snape directed arrogant statement toward Hermione, "I have not asked you to take out your books."

The entire room fell quiet. It was different from the silence when Dumbledore gave his welcome back speech. Students stopped talking out of fear and nervousness rather than respect.

Draco was determined to not look directly at Snape. After this morning's session, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back a glare. So he stared in the direction of the three entering students. Draco laughed when he saw Hermione drop her _Confronting the Faceless_ into her bag. His laugh earned him a rather jealous stare from Marilyn. The look didn't go unnoticed, and whenever Draco looked Marilyn's way, he'd always catch her staring at him while pretending to look at Snape.

"The Dark Arts," Snape said, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."*

Draco had to admit that Snape spoke the full truth. He then found himself drawn in by Snape's eloquence. Suddenly it was broken by Parvati, "Has an Inferius been seen, then?"*

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape.* He then dropped the subject and progressed to the day's aim. "Now," he paused, "you are, I believe complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"*

In a flash, a hand shot up in the air. Naturally, the hand belonged to no one other than Hermione. Draco watched as Snape took his time to look around the room to call on any other takers. Unfortunately, only Hermione had her hand raised. "Very well – Miss Granger?"*

Draco vaguely listened. "Top in the class but a filthy mudblood," he thought aloud accidentally.

"Who? That Granger?" Marilyn asked. Though she looked intent on listening to Snape, her ears were fixed on whatever Draco had to say.

"What? No," he snapped back. 'A mudblood could not possibly top in anything other than disgrace' he thought.

"Oh." She smiled.

Marilyn was just like every other girl. She had not spoken more than a few words at a time to him yet he was hopelessly in "love" with him. Draco knew it would be fun to play it her way for a while, so he half-smiled.

"An answer copied almost word for word from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six_," said Snape dismissively.* Draco sniggered. The tension and frustration form the morning dissipated.

Goyle ahead of him laughed. Snape must have taunted one of the students, and to his amusement, it was now Potter. Yet his thoughts returned to Granger, who was still listening intently to Snape. 'She must be the biggest fool in believing that she can do magic,' he thought.

"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence."* At that moment, Snape's eyes met Draco's. Snape gave a curious look but resumed his speech. "Carry on."

The room was full of screeches as the students pushed their chairs in. "Shall we?" Draco asked.

Marilyn nodded. She lost her footing as she stood up. "You first."

The two stood face to face with their wands up. Draco was concentrating. 'Petrificus totalus. Petrificus totalus.' He thought of the same spell over and over. The room was completely silent as students were trying to cast their spells. 'Petrificus totalus.'

At first, Malfoy thought it was working. Marilyn had grown very still. It hardly looked like she was breathing at all. Suddenly, he thought he did it. Marilyn had fallen to the side. "Professor?" he called.

Snape walked by and observed the fallen girl. "Well, Malfoy. You have managed to stun her with…your good looks," he said a bit sarcastically. Several of the girls who had turned around to watch snickered. Others giggled. "She merely fainted but not from your spell."

Draco openly glared at his professor. His first failure.

"Seeing that Miss Alenn is incapable of even looking at you for a few minutes, she is an incompetent partner for you, Mr. Malfoy. Nott, switch with Malfoy."

The two boys switched places. Now Draco was up against Goyle, who mouthed, "So?"

"Maybe," Draco mouthed back. Marilyn would be great for a night or two but nothing more. He didn't want anyone who could back at him. Goyle grinned.

Draco tried another spell. This time, he really focused on the spell. He knew nonverbal spells would become important in duels.

Then Draco heard another body crumple to the ground. "Well, Miss Granger." Draco looked up. No, it wasn't Goyle who had fallen. To his dismay, the mudblood was successfully able to repel Neville's Jelly-Legs Jinx. Draco scowled. He was glad that Gryffindor was not awarded any points.

Draco then looked back at Goyle who became tinged blue in the face. He didn't look much better than Weasley, who was purple in face. 'He looks constipated,' he thought.

Draco appreciated Snape a bit more when he heard from across the room, "Pathetic, Weasley. Here – let me show you –"*

Draco and Goyle were snickering as they looked on. There was lanky Potter against Snape who was draped in his usual but still intimidating black robes. However, Draco watched his fun shatter as he saw his professor blasted away and hit a desk.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter…not even 'the Chosen One."*

Draco watched as Hermione look disapprovingly when Ron laughed. Then when she then turned her way to see Draco standing there smirking, she looked away in disgust.

But that was the end of Draco's fun. For the remainder of the class, he had not managed to place Goyle under a single spell. Ever since Hermione had successfully repelled Neville's spell, he had lost all focus.

Cutting through the silence, Snape declared that class was finally over. Around, students quickly gathered their books and escaped the classroom.

"Next is potions," Nott said.

"Mm yeah."

"See you after lunch."

* * *

><p>Potions was slightly better than Defense Against the Dark Arts. When Draco and Nott entered, they joined two other Slytherins. The class was small. There were only a handful of students—four from Slytherin counting themselves, four from Ravenclaw, a single student from Hufflepuff, and to his shock, two Gryffindor students. It was as if this horrible nightmare was finally ending. Granger was alone in the class. She didn't have anyone to protect her now. 'Not that she needs protecting,' his mind immediately added. Draco mentally slapped himself.<p>

"So what did you think of Marilyn?" Nott asked.

"Pretty. Bit dull. Not my type," Draco answered nonchalantly.

"Hm. Mind if I take a shot at her?"

Draco nodded. 'At least Pansy can look at me without fainting,' he thought.

"Now then, now then, now then gather around," Professor Slughorn said. Draco was now facing at what he thought was an overgrown and overexcited student who has just graduated. Donned on Slughorn's head was a green graduation cap which perfectly matched his green robes.

Doing as told, the handful of students walked to the front of the room where there were several cauldrons of various potions were bubbling.

"Now then. I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. Anyone tell me what this one is?"* Just as quickly as the question was administered, a hand shot up. "Yes?"

Draco looked over and rolled his eyes. It was Hermione's hand as always. Draco looked away and stared absentmindedly around the room. He wasn't interested in any of this. He only signed up for potions because he thought Snape would still be teaching the class. From the sound of renewed youth in Slughorn's voice, Draco assumed that Granger had answered correctly.

"Now, this one here…yes, my dear?"*

"It's Amortentia."

All of a sudden, the door opened and to Draco's contempt, his least favorite people had entered. "Harry, m'boy. Come come."

Draco groaned inwardly. When he thought this class couldn't get any worse. He shut out every word exchanged between the three. However, he looked up when Slughorn referred to Hermione once more, "I assume you know what this does?"*

Draco was only stirred from his thoughts because he saw a group of girls inched closer to the potion where Granger placed herself.

Hermione proceeded explain the effects of the potion verbatim from a textbook. "…As for me, I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and – "* Draco listened to her unusually soft voice. When he looked up, he was also confused to see that look on her face on her. She looked so content and carefree. He was also a bit surprised to see her look rather abashed as she stopped in midsentence and moved back. He noticed that her cheeks flushed.

"Only she would smell parchment. It's the closest she'll get to a date," Malfoy said to Nott, who nodded along agreeing with the comment.

"May I ask your name, my dear?" Slughorn looked curiously at this bright, young witch.

"Hermione Granger, sir" said Hermione.

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dogworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"*

"No, I don't think so, sir. I am muggle-born, you see,"* she said slightly softer. Her cheeks grew very warm.

Aside, Draco whispered to Nott, "And thank Merlin for that." His lips curled upwards slightly when he saw Slughorn had paused before he spoke. Both sniggered. However, Draco's half-smile quickly turned the other way into a deep frown.

Draco had thought Slughorn, a proud Slytherin, would have made some remark about her lack of magical blood. However, Slughorn said to Draco's greatest dismay, "Oho! 'One of my best friends is muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whome you spoke, Harry?"*

"Yes, sir," he answered.

Slughorn looked delighted. It wasn't hard for Draco to avert his eyes to something else. Draco wished something would distract the clearly impressed professor. Oh how he loathed that girl. 'How dare she suck up to a Slytherin professor," Draco thought.

"I take it that you know what Felix Felicis does, Granger?"* Draco couldn't help but stare at everyone was looking at. It was a tiny vial full of a golden substance.

"It's liquid luck. It makes you happy!"*

Draco's ears perked up. 'Liquid luck?' He intently listened to the old professor account his two perfect days. Draco eyed the vial rapaciously.

"Correct. Twenty points to Gryffindor." Slughorn looked extremely pleased.

'I need that more than anyone else in this bloody class.' Draco peered around, scouting for any competition. Of course there was Granger. At that thought, he mentally spat at the idea of losing to her. He then considered the Ravenclaw students. He never had class with any of them so all were fair competitors. Draco then placed his full attention on Slughorn. As soon as Slughorn had mentioned the potion they had to brew and the page, Draco hurried to his desk with Nott.

Draco fervently took out his cauldron and gathered supplies from the cupboard. He shoved anyone in the way aside. Before he returned to his seat, Draco made a concerted effort to cause Granger to drop some of the ingredients.

When he returned to his desk, Draco noticed that Slughorn was passing by his station. "Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"*

However, Slughorn did not even have the care to look at Draco. "Yes. I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age…"* He then walked away. Draco scowled at Slughorn's lack of manners and sense.

Draco scowled at Slughorn's lack of manners and sense. To his horror, the thought struck him that that mudblood was held at a higher esteem than him. He furiously began to stir is potion.

Ten minutes had passed. Twenty. Thirty-five. Everyone in the room looked disappointed but no one as much as either Hermione or Draco. Draco was glaring at his puke green potion. At this stage, his potion should have been darkening into a deep, ink blue. Across from him, Draco caught Granger constantly frowning and giving rather dirty looks even Draco approved of at Harry. Draco gave up and began to wonder what was going on at his rivals' table.

Without realizing, Draco was smiling to himself. "Malfoy," Nott said, interrupting Draco's fun.

"What?"

"Doesn't Granger look kind of hot when she's mad?"

Draco spat. "Bloody hell, Nott. Did your potion get to you? Mudbloods are foul, especially book loving, friendless ones like Granger."

Nott looked at Draco curiously. He had answered quickly, too quickly in his opinion. It was as if Draco had given this thought. Nott grinned. Could his friend have been thinking about Granger. Though he had no intention of giving Granger even the slightest space in his mind, Nott said, "You know. She might even be prettier than Marilyn." Nott took the pleasure of watching Draco's now grimacing at the thought. "Maybe I'll go for her."

This was wrong in so many ways. 'She's a mudblood," Draco thought. 'Her only friends are Potter and Weasley. She has no sense of style. She dresses like a muggle.' His mind continued with his standard insults. When he was done, something still didn't feel quite right. 'Why would she like anyone?' He glanced over, forgetting about Nott, who found Draco's behavior strange.

"And time's up!" Slughorn called. Draco slammed down the ingredients he was currently holding. "The clear winner!" Slughorn exclaimed.

Draco broke from his thoughts and looked to the person standing in front of Granger. "Potter," he hissed. Always the center of attention.

As he continued muttering under his breath, something made him stop. As the class gathered around the front to watch jealously as Slughorn gave the Felix Felicis potion to Potter, he saw someone equally upset. 'So Granger lost too,' he mused. As much as he hated Granger, her look of disgust, disappointment, and even anger comforted him. However, his fury did not abate. Sulking for his lack of luck, Draco closed his potions book.

"Well done, well done everybody. Class is dismissed."

"See you in the common room," said Nott, but Draco had already left.

* * *

><p>'Crap, I forgot to send the letter,' Draco suddenly thought while he was in the Dining Hall with his friends. He groaned. He had been so caught up and interrupted so many bloody times that dat that he had forgotten to do what he set out to finish.<p>

"I've got to go." Without giving any reason, Draco rushed out of the Dining Hall. Pansy looked as he walked away while the others were indifferent. Crabbe and Goyle hardly realized his absence, for they were still stuffing the faces with food.

Just as Draco walked up the staircase to the bridge, he remembered something else. 'Ugh my bag.' In his furious state, he had also forgotten that he had dumped his belongings in his room.

By the looks of it, it was almost time for curfew. The sun was beginning to set and the sky glowed with vibrant reds and oranges. It was truly a beautiful sight if one had the time to stop and appreciate the sunset. But of course, Draco was in no position to laze around and watch another day come to an end. With brisk steps, he reentered the castle and hastily retrieved the letter.

Now the sun could be seen just above the horizon. The sky had partitioned itself revealing streaks of various colors—magenta, emerald…all quite lovely colors. Draco would never be able to describe the current scene for he never witnessed it.

He rushed up the stairs of the owlry. His hard footsteps met the cold stone with such force that sounds echoed off the building. When Draco reached the top, he caught someone there.

Grabbing his wand from the fold of his robe, he said, "Lumos." The very tip of his wand emitted a bright white glow.

It was freaky having hundreds of eyes stare at him. However, one pair stunned him the most. Standing before him was Hermione tying a roll of parchment on one of the school owl's leg.

The light had shocked her as well. "Who—" she saw Draco standing at the entrance at an equal loss of words. "Oh…Malfoy."

"What are you doing here, Granger?" he snapped.

"I'm merrily going about my day and decided to talk to every owl in here to get to know them all better," she said sarcastically. "Why else would I be an _owlry_?"

"Serving _real _wizards by cleaning this mess. Not that you would mind. You would be where you belong, with filth."

It took all of the power and strength she had for Hermione to not punch that pompous fool. "So what are _you_ doing here?"

"I thought you answered that already. Not as smart as you seem, eh Granger? You must be tired of acting all the time."

In fact, Hermione _was_ tired of all of this nonsense. Ending their banter so she could leave sooner, Hermione said, "I'm sending a letter to my parents. I always do the second day back to tell them how I'm doing." She didn't want to waste her energy or time on the likes of him.

Draco found himself with nothing to say. He had never received mail from his parents and let alone send one to them. For a moment, he wondered what it felt like to be listened to.

Hermione stared at Draco. Her face softened as he saw him contemplate something. Could something be bothering him? "So who are you sending a letter to?" she inquired.

Draco opened his mouth and promptly closed it. "To my folks." His lie did not come out as naturally as he was usually capable of.

"Oh." Hermione smiled.

Draco noticed how her smile was different from the other day…like she didn't trust him. She would never believe him.

"Glad to know you have a heart."

Draco wasn't sure whether Hermione had meant that as a compliment or an insult. But when he looked back at her, he realized that she was not trying to torment him.

The sun had set and only Hagrid knows what things were beginning to lurk the grounds and claim their territory and prey. Hermione had just sent off the brown barn owl. "Well, I better go now. Good night."

She passed a quiet Draco as she left. Draco again tried to speak but couldn't. It was as if his ears were acting on their own and were longing to hear more.

"Oh, Malfoy." Draco swiveled around to see Hermione one flight down. "Don't forget we have a prefect's meeting tomorrow." With that she dissolved into the darkness.

"Right," he muttered as he took a black own from one of its roosts. Clumsily, he tied the letter for Borgin onto the bird's leg. "See you," he whispered. The black owl faded into the night sky.


	5. Duty and Obligation

_A/N: Hi! So I realized that I haven't been writing much about the Golden Trio. In the following chapters, I'll probably write different parts of the day in different characters' perspective. Hope you like this chapter. Please read and review. _

_I'd also like to thank all of you reading this and even adding this story to their favorite/alert list. Seeing those notifications keep me inspired to update as quickly as possible._

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Duty and Obligation<strong>

The sun had shown uncommonly bright the next morning. Rays of light peaked through the shades producing a golden shimmer against the red bedspreads and other Gryffindor adornments. Already, the boys had made this space home. Proud banners of Gryffindor hung from the walls along with photographs of friends and magazine cutouts. The floor was scattered with empty chocolate frog boxes and jelly beans of unknown flavors. It was a true struggle for all of the boys to wake up.

"Mm," Ron groaned as he covered his face with his pillow.

"Get up," a voice said lazily next to him.

"You first."

It was a hopeless case. As the two wizards shielded their eyes from the sunlight, the others in the room stirred and managed to pull themselves out of bed. All of a sudden, Ron felt a whack on his back. "Bloody hell," he exclaimed. "What was that for?"

Ron was still squinting upwards. When his eyes finally regained focus, he let out another groan. His unruly haired friend laughed. "C'mon, mate. Hurry up."

"Why?"

"I hear they are serving pancakes today. I want to try the new syrup flavors."

"Five more minutes." Ron received another whack.

"Do you want to be lectured by Hermione?"

Ron shut his eyes. For once he wished he could sleep in and just not care. "Alright, alright. Give me a few minutes. I'll meet you in the common room."

Ron pretended to get ready and waited until he heard the door to the room shut until he flopped back into bed. A few more minutes couldn't hurt…

"Ronald Weasley!"

"Ehh."

This time, however, the voice did not come from Harry. Ron could have sworn he heard his mother. But when he looked up, he saw Hermione with one arm on her hip and the other tapping impatiently against the bedpost. "We are already fifteen minutes late. By the time we walk to the Dining Hall and finish breakfast, we won't have enough time to practice our spells."

"But Hermione. It's only the second real day of school. Lighten up. You have the rest of the year to learn all of the spells." Hermione huffed.

"Okay coming."

This time, Harry and Hermione waited outside the door for their red-haired friend. When the door swung open, Harry chuckled when he saw his friend scowling. "Good morning, sunshine," said Harry in a sickly sweet voice.

"It's too early," Ron complained as all three briskly walked down the staircase.

"Good morning, Ron."

Ron, who was still not quite conscious, opened his mouth. To Harry, it looked as if Ron was drooling in his sleep. Hermione simply looked away and quickened her pace. But Lavender apparently found it cute and giggled. Finally waking up, Ron smiled sheepishly. "Morning."

"Who was that?" Ron whispered into Hermione's ear.

However, Hermione chose to ignore Ron's question. Harry could have sworn he saw Hermione glare.

"Harry, do you know who she is?" Ron asked again as they were exiting through the portrait hole.

"Lavender Brown."

"Oh," Ron said a bit too hopefully with a wide grin. "Ow! What was that for?"

Hermione, who had heard Ron's eager response, only sighed. "Ron, how could you be so dense?"

"What does that have to do with hitting me?" He feigned being hurt.

Hermione laughed. "To knock some sense into you, of course." Harry smiled. After taking some time to consider what she would say next, Hermione continued, "I am staying in a room with Ginny and a few others. It took me _forever_ to get it out of Ginny but apparently she heard that Lavender fancies you."

Ron's grin grew even wider. "Even better," he thought aloud.

"You don't even know her."

"So?" Hermione whacked him again. "Okay okay."

Harry watched the scene from behind. Every day there was something new for his two best friends to have a row about. However, as Harry watched this morning's episode, he couldn't help but notice that Hermione looked annoyed by Ron's responses.

"Honestly, Ron…"

"I was just joking, Mione."

Hermione didn't take it as a joke, but when she saw Ron's puppy face, she had to forgive him. "Hurry up you two," she ordered while smiling to herself.

* * *

><p>"Attention, students." There was a rustle of papers being organized on desks and the scraping of chairs as the students sat down comfortably. When the room was completely silent, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "I would like to congratulate all of you for passing your O.W.L.s…But I will like to warn you all now," she paused and glanced around the classroom. When the class had given its undivided attention, she resumed. "I will like to warn you all that this year's course will be challenging, demanding, and above all else, most rewarding. Transfiguration is one of the most complex courses offered at Hogwarts."<p>

Professor McGonagall took a long pause before she continued. "These are dark times. This year, we will not be transfiguring objects into various animals. We will start the year with more applicable and useful transfiguration."

Throughout the classroom, there were hushed whispers that Professor McGonagall permitted.

"Blimey," Ron said. "Great way to start the year, eh?"

"You know she is right, Ron," Hermione said in a very matter of the fact way.

"Yeah," he replied glumly.

"Now everyone," Professor McGonagall said. "Before you are pieces of glass. What we will be focusing on this week is using glass to create a sand shield. When you cast your spells, focus on rearranging the particles and dislodging one, for once one falls, the rest will follow."

Taking out her wand, Professor McGonagall flicked her wand downward while saying, "Commuto clypeus." The sheet of glass instantly created a puff of sand.

Again there were more hushed whispers.

"I remember this spell," Harry said to his friends as he recalled the night they had broken into the Ministry. It was only a few months ago when Dumbledore had caused all of the windows within a hundred feet to shield him.

"I am also aware that you have been taught the essence of nonverbal spells. By the end of this week, I except everyone to be able to cast this spell without uttering a word. Begin."

Even Hermione's eyes widened. Next to her, Harry and Ron groaned and looked up at one another. Neither of the two was able to hex one another with a nonverbal spell. Harry and Ron had hoped that with so many free periods that they could laze around. Their prospective future now changed to writing numbers of essays and practicing spells. Harry could see it now—stealing glasses from the Dining Hall and using them for transfiguration.

"Commuto clypeus," echoed throughout the classroom. Adding to the soundtrack were the sounds of glass shattering and breaking.

When class was over, only a number of students had managed to turn the 5" by 5" into sand and progressed to the 12" by 10" pane of glass. Hermione, as expected, was one of the few but had left class with a number of scratches and scrapes.

"Blimey, I'm hungry," Ron let out as soon as the three left the classroom. All around students were shuffling past one another to reach their next class.

Hermione and Harry both nodded. Transfiguration class took a lot of energy out of them. Instead of returning to the Gryffindor tower, they headed straight for the Dining Hall where lunch was waiting for them on golden and silver platters.

"Thank Merlin," Ron said as he ran to one of the tables. Before he could even sit down, he grabbed a plate and helped himself to a heap of food. Though Harry wasn't as enthusiastic, he treated himself to a generous portion of food. "Gotta love those house elves," Ron said after swallowing another mouthful of food. He was too busy eating to notice Hermione's scowl.

"Can we sit here?"

Hermione was the first to notice that Pavarti and Lavender were standing by their table. Before Hermione could say anything, Harry said, "Yes." Lavender took a seat beside Ron. Hermione's mood suddenly changed. She didn't understand. She really didn't have anything against the two. All she knew was that she didn't want Lavender, especially, with them.

"So how was class?" Hermione politely asked the two. However, her question was ignored.

"Hi, I'm Ron," Ron said to Lavender. Again, Ron gave another big smile.

Lavender giggled. "I'm Lavender."

"I know."

Lavender giggled some more.

Hermione couldn't take it. "She's only interested in him now that he is famous," she said to Harry.

Harry had always known about the love hate relationship between his two best friends. He often wondered how long it would take for the both of them to swing past the denial stage. Nonchalantly, Harry shrugged. "It's okay, Hermione. Let him have his fun."

Hermione couldn't say otherwise. While she quietly ate, Harry joined in on Ron, Pavarti, and Lavender's conversation. Out of rage, she took one of the glass goblets from the table.

'Commuto clypeus," she thought over and over. Anyone who walked past her would have thought she was fuming to herself (which was partially true though not intended). She was determined to master the spell. It didn't happen right away, but finally.

"Argh. Blimey. What was that for, Hermione?" Ron complained. His lunch was now covered in sand.

A bit more arrogantly than anticipated, Hermione simply said, "Just practicing," before she cleared her plate and walked out.

"Hermione," Harry called. He mentally cursed Ron for being so clueless.

"I'll see you in Charms," Hermione said back, not once looking back at the table. She rushed to the library.

* * *

><p>After Hermione entered Charms early and settled down, she was upset to see Lavender was still with Ron and Harry.<p>

"Hey," Ron said as if nothing happened (in his mind, nothing did).

"How was lunch?" Hermione asked out of obligation.

"Oh it was great!" Ron continued to ramble about what he learned about Lavender. He didn't notice that neither of his friends wanted to listen. Ron kept talking until Professor Flitwick climbed atop several books. Harry facepalmed himself.

Charms started out much like Transfiguration. Deeply ingrained in all of the students' minds was that this would be an extremely difficult year. And after given the task to perform another spell, Aguamenti, many students left disappointed due to their failure to perform yet another spell. To everyone in the class, failure meant was that they all had more homework to add to their already long list of things to do. It was only day two.

Hermione left even more upset. She hadn't been able to get any water to spout from her wand. Harry and Ron were not much better. They were absolutely dreading the year already. They had originally planned to practice some Quidditch but life as usual demanded them otherwise.

"Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed as he dumped all of his books on a table in the Gryffindor common room. "How do any of the professors expect us to finish all of this work?" He sighed and sunk into the leather chair.

"I couldn't agree more," Harry agreed as he too slumped into the adjacent chair.

"At least you don't have a prefect's meeting," Ron complained even further. Hermione gave Ron a sharp look.

"When is that?" Harry asked.

Ron laughed. "Now."

"Now!" Hermione's eyes widened. "I must have forgotten the time! How could I?" she thought aloud. "And you!" she directed at Ron. "If you knew it was time, why didn't you tell me?"

"It's fine, Hermione. Really, it is."

"No, Ron. It isn't. How could you call yourself a prefect?"

"But— "

"Common, let's go." Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him out of the room.

Harry chuckled at the two. It was always the same. "Help me," Ron breathed.

Navigating through the halls, which were once confusing and mysterious, was now easy and often tedious.

"Ron, can you hurry up?" Hermione's steps echoed through the vacant halls. Ron could hear her walk down the steps.

"You should probably hurry," said one of the portraits. Ron scowled at being ordered around but listened.

The two easily found their way to the lone statue of Boris the Bewildered. Just as Ron was about to say the password, Hermione hurriedly said, "Maple sharp."

There was a click and the door unlocked.

"Late," someone snarled. "Except that is expected."

"They are not late, Severus," said Professor McGonagall. "They came with a few minutes to spare. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley please take your seats."

The two found seats on the last remaining couch in the entrance room. Like every common room, the entrance to the bathroom was lavishly furnished. Stained panels of richly colored glass lined the tops of the walls. In the center, there was a large, black leather couch with two matching arm chairs to each side. All were located around a grand fire place, which was currently not in use. At the ends of the rooms were busts of undoubtedly famous witches and wizards.

Now stationed in front of the fireplace were head of each house—Professor Snape of Slytherin, Professor McGonagall of Gryffindor , Professor Flitwick of Ravenclaw, and Professor Sprout of Hufflepuff. It was certainly a sight to behold. Although Snape still donned on his regular full black attire, the other professors were gowned in their evening clothes. Professor Flitwick wore bright yellow casual robes. Professor McGonagall had taken off her hat and Professor Sprout had on her night gown, which was embroidered with various flowers.

"Now that you have all arrived," Snape said harshly while glaring at the almost late comers, "we will begin today's meeting."

The chattering stopped abruptly. "You are too serious," Professor Sprout cheerfully told Snape. "Welcome, prefects. All of you have been selectively chosen to represent your house and take on the responsibility of making Hogwarts an even finer place."

"This year will be like all the rest," continued Professor Flitwick. "The responsibilities of a prefect include promoting model behavior, assisting any students, and facilitating a nurturing environment. However, your most active duties are to lead your houses should there be any disturbance and to patrol the halls."

Professor McGonagall now picked up the address. "As you are all well aware of, we are entering very dark times. Professor Dumbledore has added even more protective enchantments. Hogwarts may as well be the safest place in the wizarding world…"

Draco, who was sitting in the corner with Pansy scoffed at the comment. 'Soon it won't be,' he thought.

"…However, supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named are not the only enemies. More than any other year, we must all unite. We are only as strong as the bonds between us. Therefore, it is up to the prefects to first set this example."

Snape took over. "On Dumbledore's orders, we have modified our system of patrolling. In the past years, we have had students of the same year and house monitor the corridors and divide the task amongst themselves. However, this year we will be doing otherwise. Prefects will patrol the school in the following groups."

Snape began to list the groups. Hermione noticed the change first. "They are placing one student of each year to a group," she whispered to Ron, who had also caught on. His face changed right away.

"Group two - Ernie Macmillan, Hermione Granger, Padma Patil, Pansy Parkinson."

Hermione quickly looked away from Ernie, who had been smiling at her.

"Group three - Hannah Abbott, Ronald Weasley, Georgiana Summer, and Draco Malfoy."

Hermione watched as Ron grew even paler than the Malfoys. It was as if Ron's slug charm in their second year had backfired on him again. He was in so much shock, that he had no words.

"Each group will patrol once according to the assigned group. Group one would patrol Monday night, two on Tuesday so far and so forth."

"Professor?" Hermione said rather quietly. However, the voice carried over.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Well…you see," she started. She had no clue what she was doing. Her hand instinctively raised itself. "I was wondering whether I could switch places with Ron. I have more classes on Tuesday and I'm afraid…"

"Enough. Yes, it figures that a know-it-all like yourself would like more time to study." Snape's response was as rude as ever. There was laughter from the back corner. "Very well, Miss Granger, you may switch with Mr. Weasley. I am sure he will agree."

Beside Hermione, Ron seemed to have made a full recovery. "Thank you" was written all over his face. "Hermione…"

Hermione softly laughed. "It's fine, Ron. I can tolerate him better than you." Ron turned a bit pink when remembering all of the times Hermione had stepped in when Draco was mocking him.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Besides, I'll just choose somewhere different to patrol."

"Thanks a bunch, Hermione. Did anyone ever tell you that you are the greatest?"

"Maybe just a few." Hermione couldn't feel any happier. She always had this same unexplainable feeling when she was Ron.

From the other side of the room, Draco watched as Hermione gave Ron another warm smile. Ernie, who was to Draco's left eyed the two suspiciously. His eyes flickered from Hermione to Ron.

"Right now," Professor McGonagall said. "There is a second edit to our system." Ron groaned. These surprises were terrible. "Although all of you are perfectly capable of handling yourselves, everyone—teachers included—are at risk. Therefore, you will only patrol specific areas in pairs. It is on Dumbledore's request that the following houses pair together. Gryffindor and…" Hermione could have sworn she heard Professor McGonagal sigh. "Slytherin," she said at last. "That leaves Ravenclaw with Hufflepuff. To monitor your whereabouts, Gryffindor and Slytherin prefects will be limited to the dungeon, first, and second floors. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff prefects will watch the third through fifth floors. Our Head Boy and Head Girl will cover the rest."

"What rubbish," Draco exclaimed.

"Mr. Malfoy. Though you may have the privilege to award and take away house points, it does not mean that you are not subject to the same. Five—"

"I will take care of him, Minerva," Snape interrupted.

Draco muttered under his breath, "Stuck with a mudblood. What's next? Joining common rooms for the heck of it?"

Pansy patted him on his back. Although she smiled and said, "It's okay," she was seething on the inside. She was looking forward to patrolling with Draco alone and doing more than what they did last year.

Hermione was equally appalled. She understood having everyone pair up and to watch certain hallways, but it was absolutely absurd to be forced to work with someone else. Her hand shot up in the air.

"Yes?" Professor Sprout received her question.

"Must we work with our designated partner?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger. Those were our orders."

Hermione was never defeated, but she did not dare continue.

"Has Dumbledore gone mad?" Ron whispered to Hermione. For the first time, she wanted to agree.

Across, Draco saw again as Hermione half-smile. 'Does she hate me that much?' he thought. He resolved to give her a hard time.

Hermione and Ron were not the only two who were peeved. All of the prefects were talking and complaining to their fellow house members.

"Silence," Snape commanded. All the noise dropped. "These are the new rules and it would be best for you all to follow them. Now that you know them, return to your dormitories at once. Group three will start the first patrol tomorrow. Good night." He was the first to leave.

As Hermione and Ron were about to leave the bathroom, Professor McGonagall gave a sympathetic look to the pair. "Good luck, you two," she said. She put her hand on Ron. "And Mr. Weasley, you better make sure you properly thank Miss Granger over here." Ron gave her an embarrassed smile. "Hurry back to your common room. Oh and Miss Granger? Please do your best to prevent Mr. Potter from destroying something or killing someone."

Hermione smiled. "I will, Professor."

* * *

><p>Draco was muttering to himself all the way down to the dungeons. Whenever Pansy drew near, he sped up. 'What a blithering idiot,' he thought, 'Dumbledore…' He couldn't even think straight. The fact that he would be forced to work with Granger.<p>

"Ten points from Ravenclaw!" he randomly barked out at the student before him.

Pansy couldn't laugh. She too was furious. 'That stupid mudblood gets to patrol with my Draco,' she thought, "How is this fair at all? Now what? Stuck with a blood traitor. He isn't even good looking.'

"Merum sanguis," Draco said harshly to the portrait. Pansy followed.

Draco kicked open the room to his door. He was still muttering curses.

"What happened to you?" Zabini snapped after having been awoken from his sleep.

"Life," he said and jumped into the bed. "Filthy mudbloods," he spat.

* * *

><p>"What?" Harry exploded. He already had more than ill feelings about Draco. This did not help one bit.<p>

"I know, mate! Dumbledore is going mad. He's definitely gotten too old."

"Of all pairs."

"Of all rules."

"Hermione, why aren't you saying anything?"

While the two ranted, Hermione remained silent. Sure, she was enraged that she had to deal with Draco for the rest of the year, but Dumbledore must have his reasons. "I mean we can't change anything, can we? We just have to deal with it. Maybe Malfoy isn't that bad?"

Both of the boys looked as if they were slowly choking to death. "Are you barking mad, Hermione?" Harry yelled. Harry knows that Hermione always believed in the best of people, but Malfoy was drawing the line too close.

"There is no good in him," Ron added in. "Him and the rest of his lot."

"Not to mention Death Eaters," Harry said. Ron quieted. "You saw Malfoy that day at Diagon Alley. I am sure he showed Borgin his death mark."

Hermione and even Ron were still very skeptical about Harry's venture. "Alright Harry, that might be a bit far," said Ron.

"He's too young," Hermione coolly said. "Besides, why would He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named entrust Malfoy to do anything after his father?"

"So he dies. And if he succeeds, then it is a win win situation for Voldemort." Both of his friends cringed. Harry knew they disagreed with him, but he was so sure. The common room was absolutely silent. Everyone else had left once they heard Harry and Ron storming about the room. "Hermione," he said in a very hushed voice, "I know this is terrible, but we have to make the most out of it. I want you to spy on, Malfoy…Even if it means not insulting him or being somewhat friendly." (For not insulting Malfoy was an act of kindness to them and vice versa.) Harry himself cringed at the last sentence.

"Harry, you can't honestly believe that Malfoy has some secret task."

"But don't you see? This is brilliant." Ron smacked him. "Okay not brilliant. Even Malfoy doesn't have something to do, we'll still have the advantage. You can't deny Malfoy must have loads of secrets."

Hermione was too tired to argue. She glanced up at Ron, who had remained strangely quiet. "Alright, Harry," she complied. However, in the back of her mind she was dreading the plan. She decided that being nice meant ignoring him completely.

His friends didn't trust him, but Harry knew something was up. "Thanks, Hermione. I'm sorry that you are the one to do it."

Hermione smiled as she said, "Better than me than either of you two. You two would have gotten yourselves expelled before you could even say a decent hello."

Harry and Ron grinned at the complete truth in her statement.

"Well I don't know about you guys, but I am tired. Oh! I didn't even finish our Charms homework." Hermione sighed, "Good night. Wish me luck tomorrow."

"Don't worry, Hermione. Harry and I will beat up that git if he dares do anything to you."

For the rest of the night, Hermione was reassured.


	6. Patrol

_A/N: I AM SO SORRY EVERYONE. This chapter took me forever to write. I've been writing college application essay, and I gained access to Pottermore on the 15th so I am SUPER DISTRACTED right now. I apologize for the delay. To make up for it, this is my longest chapter yet. It is also all original so I really hope you enjoy. (Also as a side note, to any Potterheads out there, feel free to add me on Pottermore: shieldniffler22) Alright. Back to the story. Please read and review!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Patrol<strong>

Draco awoke the next morning with a start. Again he had fallen asleep in his school attire. More than anything, he wished that everything had all been a dream – the meeting with Snape, Potions class, and most of all the prefects' meeting. Maybe it was really the first day of classes. Someone could have spiked his drink with a sleeping potion. It wasn't an absurd idea. Sleeping Draught was not too hard to brew. All first years were taught to brew it.

After stiffly stretching, Draco dressed and shoved his Potions materials in his bag. He could retrieve his astronomy materials later. 'Wait,' he thought, 'I should have Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Astronomy.' So instead, he grabbed his _Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6)_.

When he finally arrived at the common room, Draco was met by what he was most dreading. Zabini, Pansy, and a few other Slytherins were sitting on the couches. No doubt they were plotting something, for when they caught sight of Draco, they all looked up at him.

"Tough luck, mate," said Zabini.

"What are you talking about?"

"Pansy told us what happened."

Pansy ran to his side. Draco groaned. He hated life. He looked at his friends. None looked to be quite disappointed. "What?" he snapped. "Happy it is me being tortured?"

Zabini smirked. "Kind of. I mean I would love to see you fall over…" Draco scowled. "But it would be more fun to see _Granger_ running into some complications."

Draco's eyes brightened. "Yeah. And?"

"Let's just say Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and I came up someone last night while you were whining like a little baby. So, Mr. Prefect. Will you let us stay out past curfew?"

"Naturally," Draco said with a growing smile.

"Well then," said Zabini looking quite accomplished, "If Granger is somehow alone and we coincidentally bump into her, we'll just give her a surprise."

Draco, who was still barely conscious, flashed a smile without giving much thought to this so called plan and put his arm around Pansy's shoulder. The others took this as a cue for them to go, so they left one by one.

"Draco," Pansy said softly.

"Hm?" Draco responded lazily.

"I missed you."

Draco pretended not to hear her. Against him, Pansy sighed. She was about to leave when she felt Draco hold onto her hand and pulled her back. "We have this year together."

Perhaps Draco was still half-asleep. He was never this openly kind to Pansy, but she didn't complain. For a second, she mused that perhaps there was something soft under Draco's tough guy act.

* * *

><p>"Harry, you can't possibly be thinking about using that book again," Hermione said as they were entering the Dining Hall. Hermione was still annoyed by the fact that Harry had only done better than she because of that book.<p>

Harry gripped the potions book and brought it closer to his side. He wasn't going to let this magical wonder go.

"Are you kidding?" Ron said. "Who _wouldn't_ keep it? Wish I took that copy." Ron regretted now having taken the less beat up book.

"You never know…"

"Know what Hermione? That it is cursed with a soul of Voldemort waiting to lash out?"

"Don't joke like that. I'm just saying, you don't even know who the owner was." Hermione pondered her statement. "That's right, Harry. Who _is_ the owner?"

Harry hadn't considered that. When he flipped through the book the first lesson, all that was scrawled on the cover was "The Half-Blood Prince" in a corner. "I don't know," he said honestly.

Quickly, Hermione snatched the book from Harry hand and began to look through. She cringed. It was one thing to love a book. It was a completely different situation when you completely defile the book by crossing portions out and writing over the text. Hermione squinted. After checking the book for the second time, she handed it over to Harry.

"I told you. I don't know who its original owner was. But there was something about the Half-Blood Prince."

Hermione looked at Harry strangely. "I've never heard of any notable Princes."

"Now that's a shock," Ron added.

"Alright. After Potions I'm going to go –"

"To the library," Harry and Ron said together. Neither of two could ever begin to understand Hermione's thirst for knowledge and old, dusty books.

"Yes. I need to figure out who this Prince person is."

"Oh get off it, Hermione. You are only bothered because there is actually someone better than you," said Ron. Furious, Hermione shot a glare at him and walked ahead.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. No, they would never understand. "Girls," Ron muttered.

"You could say that again," Harry said when he caught sight of Ginny walking across the courtyard. 'Speaking of whom,' he thought and proceeded to jog over to Ginny.

"Great," Ron muttered.

* * *

><p>Once again to Hermione's utter dismay, Harry's potion had outshone hers. In the front of the class, Slughorn was exceptionally happy due to the effect of Harry's more than perfect Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Beside him, Harry looked more than pleased to see that half the class was staring at him in awe. Meanwhile, the other half, which included Draco, scowled at this sudden change.<p>

Draco whispered to Nott, "Attention seeking, Potter."

Nott smirked. "At least it isn't Granger."

"Well done class, well done. Be sure to read up on these potions and prepare a 12 inch essay on the applications of the potions you have brewed so far. Surprise me. Best not to tarry on your work. See you all next week," Slughorn announced.

Back at Hermione's table, Ron had patted Harry on the back.

"Honestly," Hermione said, "this isn't right." Although Hermione was being honest, she still could not accept being worse than someone else, let alone a stranger.

"Hermione, that guy was a genius. You can't possibly let this opportunity go," Harry said.

The corridors were full of students pushing their way through the mob. "Oi. Move aside, brats," Ron impatiently exclaimed.

Hermione whacked him with her bag. "Ron. We are prefects. We have to set a good model."

Ron wondered why Hermione was so uptight about setting an "example." He really wondered why Dumbledore made him prefect instead of someone else.

"So why are you in a rush anyway? Both you and Harry are done with classes today," Hermione questioned.

"Quidditch, of course. Right Harry?" Harry smiled. He had been waiting forever to ride his broom again.

"Yeah," Harry responded enthusiastically. "Can't be rusty." After all, he was Gryffindor captain this year and unlike his teammates, Harry had been to endure the pain of keeping his Firebolt locked in his school trunk all summer long. The Dursleys forbade Harry from doing anything magical, though Harry would have loved to see their faces if he had tried.

"Tryouts are this Saturday too. I need all the practice I can get," Ron said in all seriousness. He was keeper last year and not a very good one at that. Ron began to contemplate his chances of making the team again.

"You'll do fine. You have more experience that everyone trying out," Hermione said positively.

"Not to mention that your best mate is also the captain this year." Ron grinned. Harry then felt his arm sting. "Kidding. Kidding, Hermione. Can't you take a joke?"

"Oh," she said. She was not in a joking mood. "Well I am off to the library. I might as well get a start in all of our homework and figure out who this Half-Blood Prince is. See you at dinner." Hermione about faced and hurried off to the library. It wasn't just that she wanted to figure out who the Half-Blood Prince was. She had so much homework from Runes and Potions already that she sincerely hoped she could finish half of her assignments by dinner.

Hermione's movements were automatic as she navigated through the halls—walk through the transfiguration courtyard, walk up one flight…While her body moved instinctively, Hermione watched as new students with eager eyes wandered the corridors. She smiled at their wonder and remembered how she too had found everything about Hogwarts enchanting, from the architecture to the talking portraits. Now she was going to the most magical place - the library.

Hermione opened the tired wooden doors to find that the library was almost completely vacant. Madam Pince was sitting at her desk, which was piled high with books and papers. Whether she was going to return the books or read them, Hermione was not too certain. Hermione always found it amazing how Madam Pince always came the split second someone was doing something wrong. Her though was answered. Between the piles, Hermione saw the librarian's eyes peering around for any wrongdoing or misconduct. Now Hermione wondered what else was hiding behind the stacks of books.

The library possessed a certain magic that would never fade. Unlike the castle where secret passageways were mapped by the marauders and secret rooms discovered by students and house elves alike, the library was a boundless source of wonder. Ever since her first year at Hogwarts, Hermione would spend hours each day delving into books. Some days she would read about spells. She had to thank a number of authors for her abilities. When Hermione was not in a technical mood, she would read about famous witches and wizards. There was always something new to be discovered.

Quietly, Hermione took her time and walked down the center aisle. Every so often, she would stop and gaze up at the shelves of books that surrounded her. There was so much for her to read. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The silence around her was music to her ears, and being surrounded by books and the smell of parchment simply soothed her. This library was very different from the muggle libraries she grew up in. Those were always full of kids, who would play and make an intolerable amount of noise. Here at Hogwarts, everything about the library made her feel at home.

Hermione resumed looking for a place to work. Unfortunately, despite the grandeur of the library, the glass window panes were angled to allow the light hit at different portions of the library at a time. Hence the light had shown brightest at the center where Madam Pince was for it was only a couple hours after noon. Everywhere else was dimly lit, for the lamps only lighted during the evening. As Hermione turned the corner, she saw a beam of light reflecting off the suspended dust particles at the far side of the room.

'Yes, this is nice," she thought. 'This will do.' However, as soon as she had placed down her belongings, she noticed that someone was already sitting in the very corner of the row. The person was very much asleep and was even snoring softly. Hermione smiled. She had often come to the library to rest. The girls in the Gryffindor dormitory were especially loud. They always had something to gossip about.

Hermione contemplated waking the student up. He (well she presumed that the student was a boy for he was much too tall to be a girl) could be late to class. However, she decided against it. It is nice taking a break every once in a while. If only she could convince herself of that.

Not wasting a minute, Hermione decided to first start her Runes homework. She had to write a 15 inch essay on the etymology of 14th century symbols. It was better to finish it since it would be a terrible pain having to lug the library books back to her room.

Hermione could easily pass as Madam Pince's library assistant. Out of the thousands of books, Hermione knew exact books she needed. With a simple summoning spell, more than six weathered books came zooming toward her leaving a trail of dust as they flew. Then with another flick of her wand, the books were levitated, stacked while in mid-air, and fell onto the desk.

"Mm." the person by the window stirred.

Hermione turned around. "I'm so sorry," she apologized quickly. "Oh," she drew her breath.

Hermione contemplated moving her seat. The person had not woken up but had turned just a bit to reveal his face. For a moment, Hermione stared at him. His face was worn and the bags under his eyes created more shadows on his angular face.

She walked to the aisle and looked down the row. Nowhere else seemed as brightly lit and she did not want to be near Madam Pince, so Hermione decided to move to the other end of the table. At least this way she couldn't be bothered by the student. With another thud on the table, Hermione got to work.

The sun shone brightly against Draco's eyes. _Thunk._ Much too lazy to wake up, he opened his eyes the slightest to see what was going on. It took his eyes several moments to adjust to the strange light. When he was finally able to make out shapes, he gazed around. Nothing seemed to be near him. However, he still heard noises. Squinting his eyes, Draco saw the shape of another student. By the sound of the things, the student was writing furiously-pages rustled as they were turned and flipped. Draco pitied the poor quill that had to endure such work.

Draco's thoughts suddenly stopped. There was only one person in the school who would spend her free time in library rather than hanging out with friends. If Draco were right in mind, he would have gotten up and stormed over to her. But he simply closed his eyes. Perhaps she hadn't seen him. For once he didn't want to cause trouble because that would guarantee being kicked out of the library. All Draco wanted was time to think in piece, and his friends would certainly never guess that he was there.

Meanwhile Hermione was indeed furiously scribbling notes for her essay. Her gray quill flew across the page. She wished that she could write as quickly as thoughts formed in her head. It was when Hermione had finished the first few paragraphs of her essays when she heard Draco stir again behind her. From the corner of her eye, she looked at him. He must have been very exhausted.

Without her time turner, time flew by quickly. Her Runes essay was completed, and she had almost finished half her assignment on the applications and misgivings of the Draught of Living Death. The other half of the assignment would have to wait, and there was no possible way for her to practice transfiguration or charms as much as she would have liked. So with a flick her wand, the books around her closed and formed a neat pile. Then with another flick, Hermione directed each book to its proper place. Magic really was a wonder. In a matter of a few minutes, Hermione had neatly packed her bag and was ready to leave.

Hermione hadn't noticed in her work madness that the lamps had flickered on and that the sun had begun to set. In the corner, Draco was still asleep.

"Malfoy." It was against Hermione's initial intent on leaving him behind and having him pay for his irresponsibility. But she groaned, realizing that they had prefects' duty, which he could absolutely not miss.

The boy woke with a start. "Bloody hell. Get out of the room," he snapped. Instead, however, Hermione was chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"And you said _I_ lived in the library. I'm sorry for trespassing _your_ room."

"You filthy mudblood."

Hermione was still laughing. "You should look at your face."

It was really a childish come back in Draco's opinion, but he was thankful for the dimness of the library that cloaked Draco's flushed face. "How dare—"

"No really, look." Draco's threat was cut off when Hermione shoved a mirror in front of his face. It was the same mirror she used when the basilisk was set loose. Ever since that moment, Hermione realized that it could not hurt bringing these extra items around.

Draco's left cheek was smeared with black ink. Once he saw his darkened face, he hissed, "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing," Hermione retorted. She hated to be the one that was always blamed.

"I said. What did you do to me?"

Hermione wasn't paying attention as she fished through her bag. After spending some time sifting through her belongings, she took out a handkerchief. She seemed to have everything in that bag of hers.

"Can you for once be quiet," Hermione said. She was tired of his complaining. It was his own bloody fault. "Augamenti," she whispered. Although Hermione had not been able to conjure the spell earlier, she was confident now. And just as she expected, a clear stream of water spouted from the end of her wand and soaked the handkerchief.

But as Hermione's hand approached his face, Malfoy snapped, "Get your filthy hand away from me, you dirty mudblood."

Hermione fumed. With a quick snap of her wrist, she flung the handkerchief onto the table and stormed away.

It was as if Madam Pince had a sneakoscope designed for detecting any unwanted spell casting in the library. Footsteps echoed down the aisle followed by, "Miss Granger. You well know that you may not practice any spells in the library. Because of your act, you—"

"Don't worry, Madam Pince," Hermione said curtly. "I'm leaving now."

Everything was going by too quickly for Draco. His face was dirty. A soggy handkerchief was on the table. Madam Pince was tapping her toes and staring at him. Hermione had tried to be nice. Nothing made sense.

"You foul git," Hermione muttered and left.

Madam Pince had her arms folded and was still tapping her foot on the ground. "Ahem."

"I know, I know. I'm going too." Draco grabbed his bag from the floor.

"And this?" Madam Pince was directing her stare at the handkerchief.

"She'll come back and get it," he said. Satisfied, Madam Pince walked back to her station. When she was out of sight, Draco double-backed and took the handkerchief. It was gross to touch and every part of him felt repulsed. Once he was out of the library, he muttered, "Incendio." Slowly, the handkerchief dried, and Draco was able to tuck it in the front pocket of his bag.

* * *

><p>"He what?" Ron exclaimed after Hermione finished telling what happened at the library after dinner.<p>

"Nothing really happened," Hermione tried to interject. "It's just…"

"That ungrateful git. Harry, this is your entire fault!"

"My fault?"

"You told Hermione to be nice to that ferret. Look at what happened because Hermione actually listened to your nonsense."

"It's not nonsense, Ron. And I didn't mean for Hermione to go out of her way to be nice."

"But you know Hermione," Ron said forgetting that Hermione was sitting right across from him. "She has everyone's best intentions at heart. I don't understand how or why."

Hermione's face flushed. "Stop this nonsense, you two," she said. When the two stopped to look at her, she sighed, "Nothing absolutely terrible happened. It's not Harry's fault. I just kind of helped him, that's all. Dumbledore has always taught us to be kind and to unite, especially under circumstances like these."

"Hermione, he's the enemy," Harry said, losing his cool. Heads turned to face the raucous trio.

"I might as well try to be on decent terms with him," she continued. "After all, we have to be together once a week."

Ron looked embarrassed. "I'm really sorry about that again, Hermione."

"It's fine. Anyway, I should go now. Best not to be late."

"Are you out of your mind? You are early. Not even Professor McGonagall would blame you for being late meeting that prat. I think she'd blame you for being on time or worse, early like right now." Ron recalled Professor McGonagall's sympathetic look the night of the prefects' meeting.

"I know," Hermione said, "but still. It is my duty as a prefect is to act accordingly, even if that does mean working with someone as arrogant as Malfoy."

"Yeah well," Harry said, "I don't think Malfoy thinks the same." Hermione looked over her shoulder to see Malfoy and his lot playing around at their table.

"Well we'll see about that. Oh and you two should hurry up and finish your work. Curfew is in twenty minutes. I'd hate to catch you two in the halls."

"But Hermione, we are your best mates," Ron said. "I'm even a prefect."

However, Ron was completely ignored, for Hermione had already left. "Good try," Harry said.

"Mm yeah. Wait, Harry. Where the devil is Hermione going?"

"What are you doing here, Granger," Pansy spat.

"Do you not know where you belong?" Draco added, causing every nearby Slytherin to laugh.

"Well I don't think you know where _you_ belong," Hermione retorted.

"Oh really, Granger?" he said pretentiously. "Maybe you can enlighten me. Where do I belong?"

"The dungeons. Now hurry up and get your bag. Let's go."

A chorus of "ooohs" arose from the crowd. Meanwhile, Ron on the other side looked as if he was about to throw up.

"Have it your way, mudblood. I didn't know you were into this kind of thing," he said suggestively.

Zabini exchanged grins with Goyle. "See you, mate. Good luck with her. I'll see you in an hour."

Draco nodded and followed Hermione.

"So, Granger. Are we really headed to the dungeons?"

Hermione, who was ahead, slowed down. "You could not have forgotten we have prefects' duty tonight."

When Malfoy caught up, he intentionally made sure he strode at least two paces ahead of Hermione. "I'm not a dolt, even compared to such a bright wizard yourself," he said sarcastically. The two were walking so quickly that they had already made it down the flight of stairs. "But we are early."

Hermione looked around the bleak corridors. She had never ventured through the dungeons before, for she only made trips there sparingly.

"See you are in my territory now, Granger," Draco said grandly, holding out his arms. "Like the sight?" Draco was amused at how horrified and disgusted Hermione looked. "Or you could look at me instead." He smirked.

Hermione had not noticed that while she was looking down the corridor, Draco had brought himself right in front of her. At a loss for words, Hermione stood her ground even as Draco took another step closer. Now they were only a few inches apart.

"Are you sure you didn't call me down here early for another reason?"

Hermione felt sick when she felt his breath on her face. "Sod off, Malfoy."

"Hey, you started it."

Hermione pushed him aside and began patrolling. Draco followed but made sure to stay farther ahead.

A considerable amount of time passed. The pair had already repeated their cycle dozens of times. By now, the halls were completely silent with the exception of their footsteps. However, this silence was eerie. Patrolling the halls with Ron had never been a problem before. Hermione couldn't wait for this to be over.

One of the halls in the dungeons was so poorly lit that Hermione lost sight of Draco. Not that she cared. Suddenly, around the corner a hand grabbed her robes. Hermione shrieked. "Get off me!"

The hand that had grabbed Hermione was now covering his mouth to prevent its owner from laughing. However, that was impossible. Draco was laughing hysterically. Hermione had no words. When Draco finally calmed down, he was astonished by Hermione's fear-stricken face – her mouth was parted and her eyes were wide open. If he wasn't mistaken, her hands were trembling. Draco was not wrong in imagining Hermione's shaking hands. She was absolutely furious.

"So the brave and mighty Gryffindor student is scared because of a single touch. How sad. What a pathetic house with no redeeming traits."

Hermione did not reply. Without a single care or word to say, she ran ahead as quickly as she could. Draco stood where he was completely dumbfounded. 'It was just a joke,' he thought. Then he remembered the look on her face and the handkerchief in his bag. "Shit," he shouted. He had completely forgotten about Zabini's plan.

"Granger?" he called. "Granger!" The urgency in Draco's voice increased with every time he called her name. "'Common I was kidding." Worried, Draco was now jogging through the dark corridors. He shook his head trying to get rid of all of the possible things Zabini could and would do to her.

Just as Draco was halfway up the staircase, he heard a shriek coming from the dungeons. "Damn," he cursed and sprinted down the stairs. When he arrived at where he thought he heard the scream, he heard another pair of footsteps running closer. "Granger," he shouted.

"Malfoy, what happened?" Draco sighed. Hermione wasn't the one who had screamed. "I asked what happened. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why are you standing there as if you did."

"I heard a scream, alright. And I thought it was from you." There was a pause. "Do you know what happened?"

"No, I heard a scream as well. I thought you were bullying someone."

"You are wrong so many times, Granger."

"Shut up, Malfoy." Hermione glared at him.

"Touchy, touchy. At least you weren't—" Draco stopped himself. He was definitely having an off day.

"Wasn't what?"

"Wasn't attacked or else I would have to find the bloody fool who did it and thank him."

"Get away, Malfoy." Hermione was about to walk away before Malfoy sprinted in front of her to stop her.

"We are supposed to stay together," said Draco.

Hermione looked at him curiously. "You weren't worried about me, were you?"

Draco looked away. "Why would I be worried, Granger? I already said it. I would thank the person who attacked you." He did not sound as convincing to Hermione.

"Oh, so you were scared then. Why else would you be frantically running down the halls?" Draco hadn't noticed but his robes and hair were disheveled, and he had broken out into a sweat.

"Yeah, well…yeah fine. Hurry up. I have Astronomy."

"Oh. You too?" Draco finally turned around to see Hermione. He was glad that he did. He could finally replace his image of Hermione's fear-stricken look. Perhaps Draco was out of his mind, but he wanted to believe that she was smiling right now.

"Yeah. I should go ahead. I need to get my telescope from my dorm."

Hermione did a strange skip and quickly walked away. "Weren't you listening?" Draco shouted. He hoped she could hear him. "We should stay together. Besides, I can walk with you up to your dorm since that's where class is anyway."

Draco sighed. Hermione hadn't come back.

"You know, you should really stop saying things like that. It makes it seem that you actually care."

"Don't get used to it, Granger."

Together, they walked through the corridors and up the stairs. Silence hung around the pair, but it was oddly not as awkward as before. Draco simply made sure to only focus the sound of their steps. When they had finally reached the Fat Lady portrait, Draco stepped aside to let Hermione enter the dormitory. Just as the Fat Lady was closing, she caught side of Draco.

"Aren't you going to come in, dearie?"

"Oh no. I can't."

The Fat Lady squinted her eyes and let out a little gasp. She swung the door shut immediately. "What are you doing here, Mister?"

Draco looked around to make sure no one was around. "Escorting Granger to her dorm, obviously. We have astronomy together."

The Fat Lady chuckled. "Yes, well I hear her coming now. You two have a nice night."

With that, the door swung open. "Took you long enough."

"Well I'm _sorry_to make you wait. You didn't have to come. I'm fine on my own."

"Oh yes, coming from the one who was scared because something touched her."

"Whatever, let's go."

When the two were gone, the Fat Lady opened her eyes and laughed. "Well I'll be…"

"I. Hate. These. Stairs."

Draco laughed under his breath. Hermione must have been tired, for ever since the scream, she had been complaining like a child. "You know, I could help you up these stairs," he said, opening up his arms.

"Nope I'm sorry. As gallant as you may be, I'm waiting for my night and shining armor."

"Your what?"

"Never mind. Muggle stuff." Hermione was awaiting a scoff that never came.

'Knight in shining armor,' Draco thought. 'What kind of rubbish is that?' He envisioned a man surrounded in clunky metal. There was nothing appealing about that.

"Oh we are there. What a sight! I completely forgot about how amazing being up here is," Hermione exclaimed.

It was a clear night. Every star was shining fiercely as if to outcompete the other.

Hermione had walked to the end and put her head on the banister. "It's gorgeous," she said softly as if she was the only one in the room.

Draco walked over. He never cared for Astronomy. For the first time, he looked out at where the sky met the lake where all of the stars were reflected off the water. Together, they shone brightly. "Yeah," Draco agreed. "It is."

* * *

><p>"You weren't supposed to give a damn about that girl!" Pansy shrieked as soon as Draco entered his room. "Why in the bloody hell did you run after her?"<p>

He was caught. "What are you talking about?" Draco spoke back. "I wasn't running after her."

"Don't try to fool us, mate," Zabini said all of a sudden. "We saw you running through the corridors looking for her. Not only that, you were calling her name."

"Where were you guys?"

"I know far more and better hiding places than you. Your attempt was pathetic," Zabini spat.

"Yeah well." Draco had to defend himself. "I heard a scream. Was I suppose to ignore it? I'm a prefect." His excuse was lame, but he couldn't come up with anything else.

"Yes you were. I even reminded you during dinner. Pansy here screamed so that Granger would come by. We weren't expecting you to bloody care about what was happening. That way together we could drag—"

Draco didn't want to hear the rest. "Whatever okay? Why didn't you tell me about the plan?"

"We didn't think you were that large of a dolt to screw up on us."

"Well it's done already. Pansy, get out of my bed. I'm going to sleep."

"But." Draco had already slumped into bed and moved Pansy aside without a care. "I don't like your attitude, Draco," Pansy said. "You are acting strangely." There was a long pause. "It-it seemed like you cared about her too. Why?"

Draco pretended to be asleep. He didn't know why, and he didn't want to know the answer.


	7. Something Discovered

_A/N: Hey everyone. Thanks to everyone who has read, commented, and favorited this story. Sorry for the late post again. I was away for a week, and now with school starting, I'm afraid I can't promise updates every two or three days. I'll try my best! Reviews, suggestions, complaints - feel free to comment. Enjo__y the next chapter. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter series. Anything followed by an asterisk (*) has been taken from J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. _

**Chapter 7: Something Discovered**

It wasn't until a couple days later when a black barn owl swooped down to the Slytherin table and dropped off a rather faded envelope in front of Draco. It took Borgin long enough.

* * *

><p>Out of nervous anticipation, Ron had dragged both Harry and Hermione to breakfast an hour early. Today was the big day.<p>

"I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden," Harry said.*

"Oh, come on, Harry," said Hermione, suddenly impatient. "It's not _Quidditch_ that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."*

Beside Harry, Ron seemed to have choked on his food, but rather than drinking pumpkin juice, Ron looked down and shoved more food into his mouth. He figured that if he was already sick to his stomach, a little more food couldn't hurt.

Meanwhile, a rush of owls suddenly burst into the dining hall. Hundreds of owls were hooting, which was then followed by the clattering and plates as the owls made their deliveries.

"Oi, Pigwidgeon you blundering bird. Take it easy," said Ron as his face grew red. Several girls at the Gryffindor table were staring at the little ball of feathers that had landed in the cereal. Unlike Hedwig, who had gracefully perched on Harry's arm, Pigwidgeon was still flitting around Ron's head.

"Oh good," said Hermione, delighted. "Now you can give that graffitied copy back."*

"Are you mad?" said Harry. Without even giving Hermione time to stop him, Harry muttered, "_Diffindo_." With a clean cut, the cover of the Prince's copy of the book came off, and within a few seconds, the cover of Harry's new copy came off. "_Reparo_." The Prince's copy was now disguised as Harry's new book. Beside him, Hermione looked absolutely horrified. While trying to find a way to fully convey her disapproval, she pursed her lips and stared intently at the new textbook. However, a third package arrived.

Before her, an owl dropped a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Despite all of the ridiculous articles the Prophet had written, Hermione thought it was necessary to follow up on the Ministry. As she flipped through the pages ignoring all of the advertisements, she stopped a third of the way in.

"Anyone we know dead?" asked Ron in a determinedly casual voice.*

"No, but there have been more dementor attacks," said Hermione. "And an arrest."*

"Fantastic, who?" said Harry.* He looked hopeful.

"Stan Shunpike."

"What?" Harry said. That was utter nonsense. He snatched the paper from Hermione and began reading the article. All the while, Ron was picking at his picking at his food. The conversation had then turned for the worse. Parents were worried about the safety of their children and friends were being pulled from Hogwarts.

The talk was making Ron sick. "Alright already. 'Common. The captain can't be late."

Harry and Hermione looked at each another in mutual understanding. "Right," Harry said enthusiastically. "Weather is great too." However, Ron wasn't interested in the weather at all.

'Hermione is right,' Harry noted to himself. As the trio made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, they were joined in by many heading the same direction. It wasn't just Gryffindor students. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students too were walking to the stadium. Ron gulped. "So Captain. Do you know how many people are trying out?"

Harry hadn't thought of that. "Dunno," he responded. Ron was already turning a different shade. "Don't worry. You'll do fine." Hermione wanted to wish Ron luck but couldn't find the words to say it – ironic for she was the brightest witch of her age.

Up ahead, Parvati and Lavender were talking in hushed voices. Their conversation completely died when Parvati jabbed her friend as the trio drew near. Lavender immediately turned around and flashed a wide smile at Ron. Hermione watched with disgust as Ron smiled back. Then suddenly his walk became a strange strut. Though Harry was trying to hold back his laughter, Hermione wanted to trip Ron.

Even more unfortunate, it appeared that Parvati and Lavender were also heading toward the Quidditch pitch. Hermione scowled and purposefully walked ahead. Although Harry tried to comfort her, she remained cold and distant all the way down to the stadium.

Without a word of luck, Hermione walked up to the stands. She had no idea why she wanted to get away from Ron this badly.

"What's with her?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry perfectly well knew but chose not to tell Ron. "I don't know mate. Might be the workload. Just concentrate during tryouts."

As oblivious as ever, Ron smiled. "Right." He then waved at the stands at Hermione. Hermione, though still upset, put her silly anger aside. Ron hadn't done anything wrong, so she waved back.

However, Hermione was not the only one who had seen Ron wave. Parvati and Lavender had chosen seats to her left and two rows down. Immediately, Lavender turned around to face Hermione. "Hi," she said a bit too sweetly.

Hermione couldn't stand Lavender. The anger from before was rising again. "Oh hi. Looking forward to seeing the tryouts?"

Lavender giggled. "Not really. I'm only watching for one person, really."

Hermione groaned. "Oh. Who?"

"Oh you know. The ginger. Speaking of whom, what is your relationship with him?"

Hermione had never really questioned her relationship with Ron. Sure they were friends. They have been best friends for so long, but why now did she feel like they should be past that stage. 'No,' she thought to herself. 'I mean I'm also friends with Harry.' But somehow, she knew she didn't feel the same way toward both.

"Um well. I'm his girl," she paused, "friend."

"Girlfriend?" Lavender frowned.

Hermione face flushed. "Oh, not that way. We've been friends for such a long time now. We are just really close, almost like siblings really." Yes. Siblings was always the answer to a question

"Oh good. I didn't want to get in the way of anything," Lavender said with a bright smile. Why did Hermione have the urge to punch her all of a suddenly?

To distract herself, Hermione surveyed a field. Because she was so high up, everyone looked like black and brown dots. Harry seemed to have been grouping them, which she saw was a wise decision. In minutes, the first group was up in the air. But just as quickly as they were up, they were sprawled on the ground. 'Probably first years,' she thought. The second group wasn't much better. They hadn't even made it up into the air.

The following groups were hardly any better, so Hermione closed her eyes. It was a beautiful day. Allowing the pleasantness of the day wash over, she then began to regret becoming so harsh. If only she had wished Ron luck. And being the always logical person she is, Hermione thought about her strange reactions. At the start of the term, everything seemed different. She could now clearly visualized Ron's smile, the time Ron lead her away from Draco, how silly he looked when he stuffed his face with food when he should have been worried about Harry instead. She then recalled the anger whenever Lavender, the first girl that had ever taken interest in Ron, came near him. Amidst her thoughts, Hermione suddenly gasped. Was she a possessive friend? Or maybe Lavender wasn't the first person to fancy Ron.

"Oh, sorry," a girl said from behind her. When Hermione opened her eyes, the sun had changed positions and the stands had suddenly filled.

"It's fine," she replied. She must have dozed off quite a bit.

As Hermione watched the remainder of tryout, she was convinced that Quidditch was an absolutely boring and reckless sport. Madame Pomfrey would be quite busy. After what seemed like ages, Harry finally chose his three Chasers - Katie Bell, a second or third year, and Ginny Weasley – and two beaters, both of whom she couldn't recognized. Finally, it was time for Harry to determine the next Keeper.

Just as Hermione was about to wish Ron luck, a high pitch squeal beat her to it, "Good luck, Won Won!"

Hermione glared at the person before her. Who was she calling Won Won? It was an absurd name. "It's not like he could hear you."

"At least I'm giving him support," Lavender snapped.

The words stung somehow. "Yeah well at least Ron knows who I am."

"He knows me."

"Right. Just your name."

"Yeah well. It's not like you know him any better."

Hermione scoffed. "I've known him for six years."

Lavender recognized defeat and kept quiet.

With a smile on her face, Hermione turned her look back onto the field. So far so good. None of the first five applicants were able to save more than two goals. Unfortunately, the stands began to roar. Cormac McLaggen had successfully saved two, no three penalties. Hermione took a quick glance at Ron who was now an interesting shade of green. Without thinking, Hermione whipped out her wand. "_Confundo_." Without knowing what was happening, Cormac shot off in the completely opposite direction. Then after realizing she had cheated (her of all people), she quickly put away her wand and tried to only focus on the field.

"GOOD LUCK!"

Hermione scowled. She just wouldn't give up.

"One…Two," Hermione said under her breath. Before the crowd could cheer, Hermione ran down the steps. As she did, the stands boomed with applause. Gryffindor had a new team.

As Hermione finally made it to the ground, she heard a mix of angry cursing from the participants and the team ushering congratulations. When she reached the pitch, Ron was standing proudly with his teammates with the smile she knew so well. "Con-" Ron flashed her a grin. "grats," she finished quietly. She rushed up and gave Ron a hug.

"Feeling better now?" Ron asked.

"Loads. And you?"

Ron chuckled. "Never better. I mean did you see the last save? Didn't think I'd make that one."

Behind them, Harry watched briefly. He didn't care so much. It was only a matter of time. Him on the other hand. "Hey Ginny," he called out.

Ginny turned around, "Yeah?"

"Finally ready to play some real Quidditch?"

She grinned. "More than ever. Might become better than you even."

That's what Harry had always liked about her. "You wish."

* * *

><p><em>Mr. Malfoy,<em>

_The twin cabinet is located within the Hogwarts grounds. Should this room exist, it is rumored the cabinet was last noted to be in a room where everything is hidden. The whereabouts of this classroom, again, should it exist is a complete mystery. I am afraid I cannot give any further directions until you have located it._

_Borgin_

Draco furiously crumped the utterly useless letter in his hand. 'What rubbish. I waited for a response like this.'

He slumped back into his bed. Where the bloody hell could he find something that no one has seen. In rage, he dug his head into his pillow and yelled. Why did it have to be him? Thoughts rushed through Draco's mind. Maybe there was a way…maybe he could find a way to convince the Dark Lord that the cabinet wasn't there. He let out another groan. His Occlumency was no match.

With a deep breath, Draco calmed himself. There was no point in complaining if he hadn't tried. So with little effort, he swung out of bed and carefully walked out of his dormitory. It would only be a hindrance if people knew what he was looking for.

Out of the dungeons, Draco contemplated where to start first. A room where everything is hidden. 'Of course,' he thought. 'The room just has to be where things are _hidden_. They are hidden for a reason.' Immediately, Draco eliminated all of the classrooms and offices. But what did that leave? 'Probably hundreds unknown rooms, cabinets, and random spaces.'

Draco spat. There was no possible way for him to know what was in every classroom or even the whereabouts of all of the rooms. This room must have been large to hold all of its contents, but where on earth could it have been.

Finally, Draco decided to search the dungeons and work his way up. A terrible start. After going into each classroom – locked or unlocked – all he found were doxies, rats, and a lot of dust cloaking the unused desks and chairs. No cabinet there. Draco mused that there could be a hidden passage like that of the dormitories. To their complete disturbance, Draco hastily looked behind all of the portraits and statues. Still nothing. Now covered in dust, he walked up to the first floor.

The business of the floor worked to Draco's advantage. Without being too noticeable, he continued his search by first looking for the obvious doors and then searching behind the portraits. Nothing.

Draco gathered the same results as he made his way up the staircase. By the time he had reached the sixth floor, he was becoming desperate. What if he couldn't find it? Draco cringed. No. He must. He had to. There was no other way. Inspired by fear, Draco resumed his search. Now he was more determined. But to his own despair, hours of hunting led him nowhere and back on the first floor. In one classroom, a cabinet looked promising. To his anger, a boggart lunged out at him as soon as the door was opened.

The room did not exist. Draco had searched every room and moveable portrait. He dug around for hidden passageways but there was simply nothing. He wanted to give up. He was a failure. Completely beaten, Draco sat on the staircase. He was afraid.

"_Draco," a low, raspy voice called._

_Trying not to shake at the figure before him or shudder at such his name, Draco responded, "Yes, my lord."_

_The two were in the gracious dining hall at Malfoy manner. However, what was once so grand was now littered with spider webs and engulfed in dust. The fireplace failed to light, and the table looked weary and aged. The aura of the room was nothing more than gloom and despair._

"_Your father has been…a disappointment," said the cloaked figure. Each word was dragged out evenly._

_Without moving his head, Draco looked in anywhere but forward. He shot a glance at the door. His mother was forced to wait in the hall. Hopefully she was alright. A deafening silence overwhelmed the room. Finally, Draco mustered up the courage to look up. The Dark Lord was pacing before him. His black cloak billowed with his every step. Even moving, not a sound was made. _

"_I have been thinking of how we can fix his problem," he continued. "Don't you agree something should be done?"_

_Draco gave himself no time to think. With an automatic answer, he stammered, "Y-yes, my lord." Every part of his body was growing numb. It was as if dementors were closing in on him. Any hope was crushed by fear and agony._

"_Very good. You will make an excellent servant."_

_Draco cringed at the word. Never once was he the one to serve._

"_I require your immediate assistance, Draco."_

_His body was shutting down. He knew this was the end. There was no such thing as a reward for helping the Dark Lord. The future entailed only two possible outcomes- living, which itself was its own reward, or death. Servants of the Dark Lord were merely pawns. Even Draco was wise enough to see it. He did not revere the monster before him. Draco craved for the Dark Lord's power and believed in his goals, but Draco knew he could never kill. There was no way for him to accomplish any task. This was simply revenge on the Malfoy household for his father's failure, and he had to pay the price._

_When Draco looked up again, a pair of cold, grey eyes pierced him. "Ugh," Draco let out. Against his will, all of his thoughts flashed through his mind. His legs suddenly gave way and he collapsed on the floor. However, it was quickly over leaving Draco gasping for air._

"_Pity," the Dark Lord said not with sympathy but malice. "And I thought you were different." He quickly drew his wand._

"_N-no. No," Draco said weakly as he picked himself off the ground. It was too soon. "I'll do anything," he pleaded._

_The Dark Lord looked unforgivingly at his victim. "Well, Draco. Any other of my Death Eaters would have considered it the utmost honor to be given a task from the Dark Lord, especially from the Dark Lord himself. What should I do to you to make you understand?" _

_Before he could respond, Draco lost all sensation of his body and even his mind. Whenever the Dark Lord moved his wand, he moved along with it. He was then thrown repeatedly against the wall. He couldn't stop himself._

_The Dark Lord grinned. It was always fun to add a bit of magic into his negotiations. Finally bored, he stopped the spell, which caused Draco to fall to the ground._

"_Do you think this is an honor? Or simply revenge?" Again, Draco was not given the opportunity to answer. "Crucio."_

_Draco was writhing on the floor in pain. His limbs were tearing away from his body, and he felt as if he was being stabbed repeatedly. All of his organs screamed for help. He was suddenly losing his breath. Everything turned white. So this was the end._

_The Dark Lord stopped. On the ground, Draco was coughing up blood. His entire body burned and ached. The dusty air he breathed in only caused him to cough even more. He would never forget the metallic taste of his own blood._

"_So, Draco. Which way will you have it? Help me in completing this one task…"_

_With as much energy as possible, Draco nodded his head. Pain seared through his neck._

_With a demonic smile, the Dark Lord continued, "Very well. I am pleased. Sit." With a quick movement of his wand, Draco was lifted into the air and placed in the nearest chair._

"_Now the conditions. You are, Draco, returning to Hogwarts next year I presume?"_

"_Yes, my Lord."_

"_Good good. I have always valued education. Things are about to change at Hogwarts. But first, I need access to it."_

_Draco was completely bewildered. Dumbledore was a fool but not stupid. How on earth could he help the Dark Lord enter?  
><em>

"_I see you are doubting this plan. I assure you, this will work lest you…fail. There is an object long lost – the Vanishing Cabinet. It was widely used when I was in full power. Do you know what it is?" Draco shook his head. "Vanishing Cabinets come in pairs, sisters you can say. When used, items and people can be transported back and forth undetected. Borgin has one, but its sister is lost somewhere in the school. I want you to find it for me."_

_Without looking up, Draco responded, "Yes, my lord. Is that it?"_

"_Not quite. Finding it is the easiest part. Most likely, the cabinet is damaged. You must repair it so that once my Death Eaters come through," he paused. "You don't have to worry about how I will enter the castle. You will kill Dumbledore for me."_

_Draco had no response. This was impossible, a death sentence even. Draco opened his mouth but suddenly close it._

"_You shall speak of this to no one. Should you fail, I will show you the third spell to complete the set. And your mother…"_

"No! I'll do it. It will be an honor," Draco exclaimed, fearing death above all. "…my lord."

"_Your left arm, Draco." Words cannot describe the pain that scorched his flesh. "Good. You have a year. The clock is ticking."_

Draco was trembling all over. Without any thought in mind, he ran into the bathroom and splashed his face with water. It was just a memory, something of the past. Clutching the sink until his knuckles turned white, he let out a shout, which echoed through the empty room. Cold sweat formed on his skin. He needed to find that cabinet.

"What's wrong?" a voice crooned.

Draco jumped. He couldn't see anyone. Suddenly a ghost glided beside him. "Get away. Who are you?"

"Right. No one has time for Moaning Myrtle. And to think I only came to offer help," Moaning Myrtle dramatically sighed. "Such a rude boy."

"Just leave me alone then."

"Hmph. You are nothing like Harry Potter – so warm and kind. Do you know him?"

"Hah that scarface. Know him…hate him," his voice was full of contempt.

Myrtle didn't allow him to continue. "You know, he visited me before with his friends years ago. I haven't seen him since. I hope he is okay."

"Okay?" Draco was furious. "The Chosen One. The potion master. He is more than okay. Great even. Has the help and comfort…"

"You know," Myrtle said as she came closer. "I can help you."

"You are dead."

Myrtle looked at the pained figure before her and let his comment pass. He reminded her of herself many years ago – alone. "But I can listen. I'll be here. All you need is call." Suddenly she was gone. Perhaps he was hallucinating, but it didn't stop him from getting the hell out of the bathroom and returning to his dormitory.

"Where were you, mate?" Crabbe asked as soon as he saw Malfoy enter the common room. "Didn't see you at dinner."

With a huge crash, Draco fell onto the leather couch. Not caring how loud he was or who was around him, he said, "Do any of you know a room where everything is hidden?"

Blaise looked up from his conversation. "What?"

"I don't know," he exclaimed completely frustrated. "A room where, I dunno. Not a classroom. A place with random items, a place where no one really knows or can explain."

"Filch's office?" Goyle suggested.

"You idiot, no."

"I might know a place," a voice said from the far side of the room.

Draco looked up and saw Graham Montague looking extremely intrigued. "Really now?" Draco said unconvinced.

Montague was serious. "It was my second year. I picked a fight with the Weasley twins up on the seventh floor. Well, I must have been tired that day. They took me into this room that suddenly appeared out of nowhere and shoved me headfirst into this old cabinet. Before I could reason it out, I was somewhere other than a closet. Weird really, even for magic. Still don't know how they did that."

Draco was listening intently to each word. This was it. "And you aren't lying?"

"No. I had to Apparate to get out. Still have the marks from the splinch."

Draco was convinced enough. "So where exactly was this room? You say it appeared out of nowhere?"

"Seventh floor. It was at the end of the furthest hall, the hall after the one with those birds. And yeah. I couldn't believe it myself. Who knew something like that existed?"

"Thanks," Draco said hurriedly and rushed to his room. It all made sense. Draco knew exactly where the room was. He was so stupid. He had even seen the room just last year. The room Montague got lost in, the very same room that the DA used last year…the room of requirements.


	8. A Night Out

_A/N: Hey guys. Lol so school starts today for me in a few hours. I wanted to get at least one more post in before all hell breaks loose. Sorry that this is a rather short chapter. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it. Please read and review (and make sure that I am still alive from senior year madness) I love you all._

**Chapter 8: A Night Out**

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

* * *

><p>The next evening, Draco rushed to the fourth floor and stood in front of a wall. The wall was like any other-aged, gray stone bricks that towered high. 'Now how to get in,' Draco wondered.<p>

After surveying the hall for any lurking first years, he drew out his wand. He started muttering various spells. "_Finite incantatem. Revelio_"

Sparks shot out from the tip of Draco's wand and rebounded against the solid wall. "Blasted wall. _Incendio_."

When the dust finally cleared from the hall, Draco banged his fists against the wall. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He then began pacing before the wall. How had the DA manage to gain access? Draco continued to pace. 'A room where everything is hidden. A room where everything is hidden-this had to be the place.'

While Draco was thinking to himself, something magical and peculiar indeed had begun to happen. The surface of the wall was slowly transforming. From the top, intricate designs slowly emerged from the wall. Each twist and loop snaked its way down to the bottom. Each loose end found its place either tucked in a curl or formed a grand archway for the doors. The final piece was magnificent. In the wall's place was now two wooden doors laced by a black metal that weaved through the wooden panels. Two brass handles in the image of a lion's head gleamed and shone against the weathered doors. The eyes looked forward expectantly.

Draco was still pacing with his head lowered. 'The Room of Requirements.' There must have been a trick. The DA found the perfect room they needed. If only he wished hard enough.

Draco tightly shut his eyes. 'I need access to a room where everything is hidden to locate the missing vanishing cabinet.'

There was a quiet click. As if already knowing something good was finally happening, Draco confidently lifted his head and stared at the door that beckoned him forward. This was it. Glancing behind him again, Draco disappeared behind the two heavy doors.

A seemingly permanent haze had set in the room due to long years of neglect. Choking on the air, Draco quickly covered his nose and breathed heavily. Next time he would wish for a cleaner room.

Looking around him, Draco realized that finding this room was only the first step. Even without the help of the blue-ish tint of the room caused by an unknown light source and most of the room caked in dust and grime, the room seemed uncharitable and endless. Black silhouettes that loomed at least twenty feet high formed eerie towers that threatened further passage. Not to mention, Draco was beginning to realize the absolute randomness of the nature of the room.

Next to him, there was a maple table elegantly set up with gold goblets and wines. However, to his far right, there were piles of old books and newspapers cluttering the walkway. This was not even a fraction of what the room contained. As Draco ventured further in the mess, he was beginning to see that anything possibly imaginable was located in this very room.

"_Lumos maxima_."

A jet of silvery blue light flew from Draco's wand and burst once it had reached the ceiling, showering the room with light. Draco immediately took the opportunity to gain a broader image of the view. In reality, the room was much smaller than it had first appeared to be. At least Draco was capable of seeing the four walls. However, the complexity or rather the sheer randomness of the objects could confuse anyone.

Draco pulled a chair from a stack nearby-a bad decision. Just as the chair became loosened from the pile, a chattering of teeth rumbled from the cavernous mound. Suddenly, an upset nest of Cornish pixies flew out and started biting Draco.

"Argh." With a dash, Draco sprinted down one of the aisles, hoping to dislodge the pesky blue pixies. However, they only sunk their teeth in deeper into his robes. He now felt their small yet sharp teeth prick his skin.

"_Incendio_." A red flame blazed from the tip of Draco wand, which he pulled dangerously close to his own robes. In an instant, the pixies flew off.

"What nonsense," he muttered. "_Lumos_." When Draco looked around again, the scene had changed. Around him were abandoned plants still thriving and a monstrous tree. No doubt more creatures lurked the area, so Draco pressed forward.

Something seemed to be tugging at Draco, but when he looked down at his robes, there was nothing there. So he went with his gut feelings and walked through the random passageways. He passed by all sorts of trinkets. Pots, hats, and other bowl shaped objects were heaped up in a pile. Other piles consisted of cans, bottles, and potions flasks. If Draco had not been so terrified of the place, he would have taken a few. Finally, he saw what he was looking for.

Draco had no doubt in his mind that the cabinet standing directly in front of him was the vanishing cabinet. Although it was elevated from the ground by feeble looking posts, the vanishing cabinet was nearly identical to that in Borgin and Burkes. The cabinet was unconventionally shaped, with two panels forming a point at the front. The faces were carved with strange patterns, and there were two handles pointing outward.

Draco cautiously approached the it. Everything about the cabinet seemed dangerously misleading. Would one door cause him to end up like Montague? That and despite the once grandeur of the cabinet, it now looked as if it would break with a single gust of wind. So Draco gingerly touched the outside of the cabinet. Like its appearance, the vanishing cabinet was smooth from the wear and tear it had endured. In other areas, Draco was careful to avoid splinters. Everything seemed normal in his opinion. However, he immediately realized the problem, or at least one of them. When Draco pulled the handle forward, the entire door came loose and fell apart from the frame holding it.

"Great," Draco muttered.

The inside of the cabinet also looked for worse than the outside. Planks of wood were missing and paint peeled off the walls. There was something off about the cabinet.

Draco sighed. He dug in his robes for parchment and managed to find a clean sheet. "_Accio quill_." That was the perk about being in a room with nearly everything. Within a few seconds, a white quill zoomed through the air and landed in Draco's hand.

_Borgin,_

_I have found the room and the cabinet. _

_Outside: worn, some rough patches, strange engravings_

_Dimensions: 4m x 1m x 1.5m_

_Inside: door fell off hinge, missing planks, gaps, peeling paint, overall a mess_

_The door seems to be the only major problem. I can fix that up easily. Send directions._

_Malfoy_

Draco had no clue how to fix anything. Hopefully the door was all it took to get it up and running again. Proud to have gone this far, Draco walked backed to his dormitory to finally have his well-earned sleep he has been deprived of since day one.

* * *

><p>"So Ginny, how are things with Dean?"<p>

Tonight was just the start of the gossip sessions Hermione and Ginny had regularly. The two were dressed in their muggle wear and were sitting comfortably on Hermione's bed. Between the two were Ginny's magazine subscriptions of _Which Witch _and _Wizarding Today_ and chocolate frogs.

"Oh, things are fine." Ginny quickly took a chocolate frog. "I got Merlin again."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "You can't fool me. I might not have any experience with boys, but I know something is up."

Ginny laughed. She was so happy to have girl company. "Mione, boys are dumb." Hermione chuckled. "Dean keeps helping me through the portrait hole. I mean really, I can handle myself. I was able to get through when I was half the size I am now."

"Mm. He's just trying to help."

"I guess. We've been having rows about these things lately. He is sweet and all, but I don't want someone to keep watching out for me. I want someone to let me take risks, you know? Someone who isn't cautious. Reckless, kind of like Harry and Ron. Those two dolts never know what they are doing, but at least they are always having fun. Um, Mione?" Through Ginny's rant, Hermione's mind had slowly ventured off and started thinking about her own boy problems. "Mione?"

Hermione's mind suddenly clicked. "Sorry, Ginny. I was listening."

Ginny looked at her friend. It wasn't like her to completely space out. "What's bothering you?"

"Ehh it is nothing really. I mean all of this work. It is madness."

"That can't be the only madness in your life. You are Hermione Granger, the brightest student her age. Work is never a problem for you."

Hermione blushed at the compliment. "Thanks but-"

"You like my brother, right?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and her heart began to race.

"Well, I apologize for how big of an dolt he is for not realizing." Ginny grinned at her friend.

"I mean don't be rash. Ron and I are just friends."

"What is Ron's middle name?"

"Bilius."

"Favorite food?"

"Your mother's treacle."

"Birthday?"

"March 1st, 1980."

"Oh Merlin, even I didn't know that."

"Wish?"

"To become Head Boy."

"Ginny, what does this have to do with anything?"

"You like him."

"Answering those questions doesn't mean I like him. I can do the same for Harry."

"But do you feel the same way when you think about Harry?"

Hermione blushed. "Well know. I mean Harry and I are just—"

"Friends. Don't worry about it, Mione. I may be his sister, but I'd always root for you. I don't know why you are going for one of the biggest idiots there—"

Hermione was laughing hysterically. "I love you, Ginny."

Ginny smiled. "Love ya too." She paused. "So what are you going to do about Lavender?"

Hermione had now changed positions and was lying flat on her stomach holding one of her pillows. "I dunno really."

"Does it bother you when she's around Ron."

"Mm."

"Ah you really do like him! Well, coming from his sister, trust me when I say Ron would go for you in a heartbeat. Lavender can't compare. You are so bright, caring, and not to mention lovely and drop dead gorgeous."

Hermione was chuckling. "I don't know what to do."

Hermione's child-like innocence aged Ginny, who suddenly felt very maternal. "It'll be fine. Really, don't worry about it. I can tell Ron if you want."

"No no. I can do it."

Ginny smiled. "Then I better see you every Christmas then."

* * *

><p>Harry stared at the moving figures on the map. Ginny and Hermione were having another sleepover. Only Filch and Mrs. Norris were patrolling the halls tonight. But where was he? Harry continue to look at the various pages of the Marauder's Map, combing through the people. He was not anywhere – not in his dormitory, prefect's bathroom. Draco Malfoy was nowhere on the map. Was the map lying?<p>

Harry collapsed onto his bed. He took off his glasses and placed them on the dresser beside him.

"Mischief managed."


End file.
